"Nobody asked you, Luce."
"You never do, and yet I keep offering my opinion for free." She doesn't sound the least bit sorry about it. "I'm just observant."
"You're something," he mutters.
Bryan has gone very still in the back seat, and I respect his survival instincts tremendously.
I keep my face neutral and my eyes forward, but I am fighting a smile so hard that my cheeks are starting to ache, because the thing is, Lucy isn't wrong. She's a sixteen-year-old who sees things that most adults either miss or choose to ignore, and she landed on the truth without even trying. I don't say that, though. I just reach over and flip through the radio stations until I find something that fills the silence, and after a minute or two, Lucy starts telling Bryan about the bowling alley which lets me release the tension with a deep breath.
But I can feel Dakota's awareness of me from across the center console the entire rest of the drive.
The Laurel Springs Pine Social is lit up against the darkness of the night when we pull into the parking lot, and I can hear the faint sound of pins cracking from somewhere inside even through the closed windows. Dakota parks, and we all pile out, and before I've even zipped my jacket back up, Lucy has her hand looped through Bryan's arm and she is steering him toward the entrance with the single-minded focus of a girl who knows exactly where she wants to be and exactly who she wants to be there with.
Dakota and I stand in the parking lot and watch them go.
He's quiet for a moment, hands in his pockets, chin slightly dipped against the cold. The light from the sign catches the side of his face and I let myself look at him the way I don't usually let myself, the way Lucy apparently does without even thinking about it. I've known this man for so long that sometimes I forget to actually see him, and then moments like this one happen and it hits me all over again that there is something here that I have been dancing around for a very long time.
He turns his head and catches me looking, and instead of calling me out on it, he just leans in a little, close enough that his shoulder presses against mine.
"Someday," he says, his voice low enough that it's just for me, "that's gonna be the two of us. When we’re comfortable enough to tell everyone."
I watch Lucy tip her head back laughing at something Bryan just said, and the way his face goes soft when he looks at her.
"Yeah?" I ask, just as quietly.
He doesn't answer right away. He just looks at me with those steady dark eyes, the ones that have never once in all the years I've known him looked at me like I was anything less than exactly what he wanted.
"Yeah," he says, watching as a stream of people walk by us. "Come on, let's go before there aren’t enough lanes for us to use."
He doesn't take my hand, because we're still keeping this close to our chests, but he does put his hand on the small of my back as he opens the door for me, and I let myself lean into it just slightly, just enough that I know he can feel it.
And if Lucy happens to glance back from the front desk and catch the look on my face before I school it into something more neutral? Well. She's observant. And maybe that's not the worst thing in the world.
Chapter 9
Dakota
I'm fucking dying as I watch Molly bend over, line up her shot and send her ball rolling down the lane. As soon as we got into the lane, Lucy decided that it'd be 'couple' against 'couple'. Right now we're winning, but I'm wondering if it's fucking worth it because I'm hard as a rock behind the zipper of my jeans.
"Mind getting me something to drink?" Molly asks, waving a hand in front of her face. "I'm thirsty and it's getting hot in here."
Damn right it's getting hot in here. "Yeah, what do you want? Beer or water?"
"Bring me a beer. Whatever they have in a bottle." She has a seat and watches as Lucy walks up to bowl her lane. "Thank you."
"No problem."
I inhale deeply as I walk over to the concession stand, and tap my knuckles against the counter.
"Hey Dakota," Ms. Francie says as she comes out of the kitchen area. "What can I get for you?"
"Two beers and nachos with cheese."
"Coming right up, give me a few minutes."
I nod toward her and then turn so that I can rest my elbows on the ledge of the counter, watching Molly. She's smiling and laughing at whatever Lucy is saying to her. Luce has had a rough couple of years. She doesn't have dyslexia like I do, but she is painfully shy, and a lot of people haven't understood how hard it is for her to open up to others. It got her ostracized before she'd finally gotten to high school. It warms my chest to watch Molly give her the attention she deserves.
The two of them are leaning toward each other now, talking about something I can't hear from here, and Lucy's got that full, easy laugh going — the one she only does when she's actually comfortable — and I have to look away for a second because it gives me a buzz in my stomach. The fact that Molly has always made space for my sister, long before she and I were whatever it is we are right now, is not something I take lightly. It never has been.