Page 39 of Fun Together (Make Romance #1)

Faye

Eli must not see him yet, because he doesn’t seem to notice that I’ve stopped and that I’m not taking the hand he’s reached out for me to grab. He looks down at me, confused.

“You said he wasn’t going to be here,” I say.

Is this what Eli was trying to tell me when we pulled up? The thing that he thought wouldn’t have any effect on us having fun at this party?

“Who?”

Andrew starts to make his way over to us and I watch the shock register on Eli’s face when he finally sees who I’m talking about.

“Oh, fuck.” He turns, grabbing my shoulders. “Faye, I swear I didn’t know.”

I shrug him off, not wanting Andrew to see any more of our blatant display of affection.

I breathe deeply, preparing myself for whatever awkwardness is about to come. Maybe Andrew didn’t see Eli playing with the back of my dress. Maybe all he saw was us coming through the gate, laughing, because friends laugh together, right?

Maybe I should leave.

Eli smiles at Andrew’s approach, but I see the tightness in it. “Who invited this guy?” he jokes, pulling him into a hug. “Are these for me?” he asks, gesturing to the bouquet of flowers in Andrew’s hand.

“Tried to call you yesterday to tell you I was coming.” He holds the flowers up. “These are a gift for your mom.”

There are a few seconds of awkward silence that feel like six years, before Andrew turns with a simple but surprised nod in my direction. “Faye, it’s good to see you.”

Was Eli ignoring Andrew’s phone calls? I need to talk to him privately so we can discuss how to play this, but there’s no time. Since we’re about to start eating, it would be too obvious for Eli and I to suddenly disappear. That would make Andrew even more suspicious.

“Hi,” I say, forcing a smile. “Good to see you, too.”

“ Surprised to see you here.”

“Faye came with me for moral support,” Eli explains in a rush. “She’s been helping with my speech.”

Andrew nods, but I know as clear as the sky is blue, that his brain is working out why the fuck I’m here right now and that it probably isn’t for moral support. Also, Eli is completely lying to him. I have no idea what he’s going to say in his speech.

“You two match,” he says, and it might as well be an accusation.

Eli and I both look down at our outfits. I didn’t even realize it until now, but the blue stripes in his shirt are almost the exact shade of my dress. Eli and I glance at each other quickly, both awkwardly smiling. Every cell in my body riots against what’s happening right now.

“Andrew!” Patti rushes over to greet him with a hug and I’ve never been so happy to see a person. I expect to see his usual tense reaction to being hugged by someone, but he seems to welcome the embrace. “These are for you, Mrs. Miller.” He hands her the flowers.

“Oh, they are gorgeous. Thank you, sweetie. Everyone come sit down, we’ve got place cards for everybody.”

Red-and-white gingham tablecloths cover a line of tables set up in the backyard.

There’s heaping piles of food on the tables, and it smells amazing.

Each seat has its own place setting, complete with name cards.

Seeing my name next to Eli’s makes me want to smile, but I feel like I’m not allowed to.

We take our seats, and Eli leans over and says, “Looks like I’ve got the best seat in the house.”

I know he’s trying to put me at ease, but I don’t want him to flirt with me right now. But I also want him to never stop flirting with me, ever.

I point to the melted butter sitting right in front him. “Because you’re next to the butter?”

His face gets serious. “Can we talk?”

I shake my head and can’t help but feel a bit exasperated. This should not be happening. I should not be here. “We can’t talk now, and you know it.”

I gesture to where Andrew has made a stop to see Eli’s dad. “I didn’t forget you, Mr. Miller,” he says, placing a small box down on the table.

“Puro Vintage cigars? Where the hell did you get these?”

He smiles, polite as always. “I have my ways.”

I brace myself for Andrew to notice that while he’s seated on one side of Eli, I am on the other. He says hello to a few people on his way over and he pauses momentarily before taking his seat.

Eli nudges my knee with his under the table, a nonverbal assurance that he’s there and that we’ll get through this evening. I give my head a slight shake that I hope he sees as my nonverbal signal that if we’re going to get through this evening, he needs to stop trying to touch me.

“Everybody dig in,” Eli’s dad says. It’s a welcome distraction when everyone begins to fill their plates. Some of my anxiety subsides, lost in the chattering of guests.

I’ve always wanted to experience a family gathering like this, everyone laughing and talking over each other. After watching the way Andrew interacts with Eli’s family, I can see that’s he’s probably drawn to the camaraderie as well.

He found a family with Eli.

I glance out of the corner of my eye and watch Eli and Andrew for a few seconds.

I try to keep myself from doing it, but with the two of them in front of me like this, it’s difficult not to compare them.

Andrew is high strung and excitable, while Eli is relaxed and spontaneous.

Andrew’s dark eyes are kind yet discerning.

Eli’s eyes are warm, a little mischievous.

Maybe what makes them so different is also what makes them such good friends.

Does that make me the interloper?

I shuffle my food around on my plate and wonder what I’m doing here. And what Eli and I are doing? My grandpa liked him. I like his family. I don’t know what to do with that.

Evie moves to stand at the front of the table. “And now, with a few words to celebrate our favorite couple . . . my second favorite brother.”

Eli gets up from his seat and walks over to her. “Thank you, dear sister.”

“Does someone have music ready for when he goes over his allotted time?” Emmett asks.

Eli grins. “They’ve made it thirty years, so what’s five extra minutes?” Then, he takes a swig of his drink, and I see a hint of nerves in his demeanor. I may be grappling with the discomfort of this situation, but so is he. He meets my eyes, and I give him a small smile of encouragement.

But he doesn’t break eye contact with me like he should. Why is he staring so intently at me like that? I give my head a confused shake, not wanting to draw attention.

He finally looks away. “I had a speech planned where I was going to tell a story about the time when I was about sixteen, I caught Mom and Dad smoking weed right over there.” He points to the edge of the yard between the garage and the neighbor’s fence.

“Don’t worry, Mom, I’m not actually going to tell that story.

And don’t worry, Dad, I’m not going to tell Mom that you gave me the roach from the joint later that night. ”

Everyone laughs and turns to look at his parents. Patti gives Steve a mock-chastising look.

Eli continues, “Burnt the shit out of my fingers trying to smoke that thing.” He shuffles back and forth.

“I like that story, though, because the only reason I discovered you were over there was because you were giggling so loud. And I think on some level, I must have subconsciously thought, That’s what I want someday .

To be with someone I can laugh and have fun with like that. ”

He clears his throat. “Then I was going to say something like, ‘Here’s to many more years of laughter together’ or something corny like that. But lately I’ve been thinking…”

“Shocker,” Evie buts in and everyone chuckles.

“I’ve been thinking it’s more than laughter that gets you through thirty years with someone. There are tears and hard times in there, too. I’ve watched my parents have fun with each other, but there’s more to it than that.”

He looks at me, his honey-brown eyes so earnest I can’t move or breathe. “They know each other in a way that no one else ever will. They tell each other everything. They support each other. They get on each other’s fucking nerves sometimes.”

“Language, honey,” his mom says, blotting her tears away with her napkin.

Everyone laughs, but I don’t. Because I’m starting to sense something. That, while technically he’s giving this speech to his parents, what he’s really doing is telling something else.

What he’s really doing is telling me.

“They love each other,” he says raising his beer bottle, not once taking his eyes off me.

But I must be imagining things. Eli doesn’t love me. He can’t love me. I’ve always had a runaway train for an imagination, and surely that’s all this is. I’m so lost in my thoughts I barely register that Eli has finished his speech and we’re all raising our drinks.

He turns to his parents. “Love you both. Now is when I’ll say cheers to many more, et cetera, et cetera . . .”

He drains the rest of his beer as all the blood drains from my face.

I glance briefly at Andrew and he’s not even looking up at Eli, but right at me.

He’s one of the most intelligent people I’ve ever met, able to find patterns that most people would never see.

He’s compiling everything he’s seen tonight into a Faye and Eli folder in his brain, coming to the same conclusion that I have.

What Eli and I share is beyond friendship now.

When Eli takes his seat again, I’m unable to make eye contact with him, feeling the sting of impending tears behind my eyes.

“I’ll be right back,” I say. “Need to use the restroom.”

A look of concern passes over his face before he smiles softly and says, “Okay.”

“That was lovely,” I say, barely above a whisper before I weave through the guests and make my way inside the house.

I’m relieved when I find the half bath next to the living room unoccupied.

I shut the door and look at myself in the mirror.

I almost laugh, even though nothing about this is funny.

I’m pretty sure when someone gives a heartwarming speech, that is also a not-so-thinly-veiled confession of feelings, you’re not supposed to look as terrified as I do now.

I take a few seconds to re-do my bun and gets my thoughts in order.

This is the moment I think I’m supposed to decide what to do. I’m supposed to look myself in the eye and tell myself to buck up and tell him how I feel, too.

And there it is. What do I feel?

I feel scared, sure, but that’s too easy. What’s hard is admitting that everything he said in his speech is the very thing I’ve always wanted, too. Fun, friendship, safety, and love. And those are all things I can’t keep denying that I feel for him.

But if there’s anything I’ve learned in life, it’s that just because you want something doesn’t mean you’ll get it.

I touch up my lipstick and give myself a big, fake smile.