Page 73 of Just Friends

When the final notes fade out, I can’t repress my smile. “You win.”

Alex’s cheeks are flushed, his eyes twinkling, and one of his hands grips the steering wheel in a loose, carefree way that I haven’t seen in a long while. It’s like whatever tension has been weighing down his shoulders for the last few weeks has burned up in the summer sunshine.

“We’re here,” he says, turning into a dirt driveway, dust kicking up behind our tires.

The lake house is more rustic than the rest on this street, and much smaller. It’s more of a cottage than a lake house, but it only makes it more quaint. The siding is beige, and the front door has been painted a bright orangey-red. As we park, I can see through the windows and all the way to the water on the other side, where the sun is glinting on the surface.

The poppy red door swings open, and Wes stands there, a huge grin stretching across his face. His hair has gotten steadily blonder as spring has bled into summer, and even from here, I can see the sparkle behind his green eyes.

He meets us at the car before we’ve even put it in park. “You made it,” he says, beaming, and I can’t help but smile. I bet Lo is inside soaking up the last few minutes of peace and quiet before we descend on her, but Wes looks like he’s been counting down the minutes until we arrived.

“We made it,” I tell him, climbing out and giving him a quick hug.

Wes is practically bouncing on the balls of his feet as he makes his way to the trunk. “Let me help with your bags.” When he opens the trunk, he gives me a conspiratorial look. “You moving in?”

A little laugh escapes me as I assess the pile of my luggage in the trunk. “No, I’m going to my parents’ after this, remember?”

“Ah,” he says. “I forgot about that. Which bags need to go inside?”

I point out which ones and follow him through the bright red door and into the house. The windows are all open, the scent of pine and cypress blowing in on the breeze that ruffles the white linen curtains.

Lo is curled up like a cat in a patch of sunshine when we come inside, a sweating glass of lemonade on the end table next to the blue and white pinstripe chair she’s sitting in, a worn paperback in her hands. Her smile is warm and genuine and so very Lo that I can’t help but do the same.

“Hey, guys,” she says, pushing out of her blanket cocoon. Lo always sounds the tiniest bit sleepy, like she’s just woken up from a nap. It’s endlessly endearing, especially to someone like me who has enough creative energy pulsing inside me at all times to power a wind farm.

“How are you, Lo?” Alex asks, giving her a side hug before I move in for a more thorough one. Lo is so much taller than me that hugs with her feel like being enveloped, and I love them.

“I’m good,” she says, twisting her long red hair back from her face and securing it with a cream-colored claw clip that was sitting on the coffee table. Her blue-green eyes move behind us. “How was the trip? Did you not ride with Cam and Ellie?”

“No,” I tell her, settling on the couch as she sits back in her chair, draping a thin white muslin blanket over her freckled legs. “I’m going to my parents’ to help my mom after her surgery on Monday, so Alex is going to ride back to Nashville with Cam and Ellie.”

“Ah, right, right,” she says, nodding, and wisps of her hair fall from her clip to frame her face with the movement.

“Are there rooms I can put our bags in?” Alex asks, and I notice he’s still got a duffel slung over his shoulder. Wes dropped mine next to the couch before settling in the matching blue and white chair next to Lo’s.

“Oh,” Lo says, her gaze dashing away to look out the window. There’s a fiery blush starting to creep up her cheeks. “We only have two bedrooms here, and we told Cam and Ellie they could have it since we asked them first. But I promise the couch bed is really comfortable. We slept on it for weeks before the rest of the furniture was delivered.” She says all this to the window, avoiding looking our way.

Lead sinks in my gut as I glance at Wes, who looks like he’s trying hard to keep from laughing, his eyes twinkling mischievously. A sick feeling starts in the pit of my stomach, curling up around my ribs to choke off my air supply. I have a sneaking suspicion that it wasn’t entirely a coincidence that Wes and Lo stumbled into the Whistling Kettle with a weekend invitation for Alex and me. That chagrined blush and that devious smirk reek of a setup.

WhenCamandElliearrive an hour later, the four of us are already outside, sun warming our skin, bathing suits damp from our swim in the lake. Wes and Alex are still out in the water, but Lo is stretched out next to me, a white linen shirt unbuttoned over her orange one-piece.

“Hey, hey!” Ellie yells, coming around the back. Cam is walking slowly behind her, hands stuffed into the pockets of his pants, a lazy grin on his face as he watches his wife. It makes my chest hurt to watch them, and I can’t help the way my eyes shoot to Alex. A zing slides along every bump of my spine when I find his already on me. Even from here, I can feel the intensity like the burn of standing too close to a flame.

“Stop it right now,” Ellie gasps, and I tear my eyes from Alex, heart pounding in my throat. “Where did you get that swimsuit? Ineedit.”

When I look down at my daisy-printed crochet bikini, a smile unfurls across my lips. “I’ll get you one for your birthday next month.”

Her dark brown eyes, so similar to Alex’s it feels like looking directly into his soul, light up as she settles onto my towel next to me. She’s dressed in a bright floral sundress that spreads over her outstretched legs.

“So Alex mentioned your blind date experiment at family dinner a couple weeks ago,” she says almost too casually, smoothing her hand over a wrinkle in her dress. “Tell me all about it. How’s it going?”

Uneasiness prickles beneath my skin, and I don’t dare look in Alex’s direction, not when my confusing feelings for him could be written all over my face. Not when I’m almost positive that this whole trip was set up by the two women across from me, hoping to force our hands.

Letting out a breath, I sit up and cross my legs. “Is this a setup?” At the wild, caught expressions on their faces, I know I’ve hit the nail on the head. My mouth falls open. “You’re not serious.”

“Why not?” Ellie asks, her voice sounding whiny and desperate. “We could befamily.”

I give her a flat look. “We’re already family.”

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