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I squint, trying to decipher his thoughts he keeps so hidden from me. “Because you couldn’t look at it anymore?”
He nods, his arm around my shoulder. His side-eyed stare on me sends shivers down my spine. “You know what would make me feel better?”
“What?”
“Sex.”
I try not to focus on the smirk or the way his hooded eyes meet mine and stifle a sigh. “Six weeks,” I tell him.
Groaning, he angles his head toward mine, as if just the mere idea is impossible. “I can’t wait that long.”
“You went three years without it. Pretty sure a few more weeks won’t be too bad.” Dropping my hand, I lace my fingers in his. “And I googled it. Even an orgasm can increase the pressure in your head. You still have six weeks until your three-month check-up.”
Hanging his head, low laughter falls from his lips. It doesn’t seem to stem from amusement, but maybe disappointment. I can’t tell, but it guts me when he whispers, “Way to ruin my fucking night,” and distances himself from me further.
Inside the house,Grayson doesn’t say much. The smile I had outside has long disappeared and replaced with one word answers. He does congratulate Frankie on the baby, hugs her for the first time, and she bursts into emotional tears. She’s either relieved or thinks the baby is going to throw up again.
I help Julia with dinner for the next hour. Ethan and my mom come over with the hamburger buns. Ethan sets them on the counter and then catches me by the arm, a beer in his hand. He nods toward Grayson standing near the pool with his dad. “Did he really set his truck on fire?”
I watch Grayson, fearing he’s too close to the edge of the pool. What if he falls in?
Jesus Christ, it’s like I’m trying to protect a toddler.“Yep.”
“I would have too,” Ethan notes, watching Grayson stumble when he turns to his left. I notice it’s always his left side he has problems with. Probably because that’s the side that took the hit.
I stare up at Ethan as I arrange pickles, tomatoes, and lettuce on the plate in front of me. “You would have?”
“Without a doubt. Look at the memories he probably has.”
A frown settles on my lips. “He claims he doesn’t remember anything past being at the lake.”
Ethan clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth, his beer at his lips. The corners of his eyes crinkle as he cringes. “He’s lying to you then. You can see it on his face when he looks at you. He remembers. Probably all of it.”
Awesome. So he’s setting shit on fire, lying to me, being an asshole, and we can’t have sex. Ugh.
I push my brother away from me. “You’re not helping my situation.”
“I’m being real.”
“Go tend to your fiancée. She thinks the baby is puking inside her.”
Ethan’s amusement turns to a somewhat frightened look. “Do they?”
“No. Did you not pay attention in health class?”
“Not really.” Shrugging, he tucks his beer under his arm and takes the plate in my hand from me. “I learned how to cover it up and moved on.”
I snort. “Turns out you failed to do that too.”
Ethan smiles, sweeping his hair from his eyes. The kind I know is about to lead to a conversation I don’t want to have with him. “Didn’t wear one. Went bareback.”
I make a face at him. “I didn’t need to know that. Go take this outside.”
The night drags on slowly but for once, despite the events of the day, we sit by the pool as the sun sets. Julia and Wyatt grill the hamburgers and laughter is in their house again. This feels normal. So many times while Grayson was in the hospital I longed for days like this.
Frankie and Ethan talk about the wedding. “September twenty-seventh,” she tells us. “And you’re my best girl,” she notes, looking to me.
“You mean maid of honor?”