Page 77 of The Ex-Best Thing
Bree’s grin is infectious, even hidden behind shades in the waning sunlight and extra thick lipstick with the wrong color makeup making her skin look odd. All of it together makes me want to pull her close and laugh with her. I’m caught in her smile, and I don’t want to be anywhere else.
Peter claps me hard on the back, a grin spreading wide over his face. “Thanks for coming, guys.”
I could shove this cupcake in his smug face. “Happy birthday, man.”
“Did you have a good birthday?” Bree asks, taking a bite of her cupcake, frosting and cake and all.
Peter nods. “It was great. Amber came up and we went out on the boat.”
His shirt flaps open in the breeze, showing off the tattoos climbing up his chest and disappearing beneath his collar, lit by the fading sun and the orange firelight. A bird’s wing is visible now, and I know it involves a redwood tree, too. He got them a few years ago to mark a significant point in his life. I’m proud of him.
But, dude, close the shirt. I don’t need to compete with his insane workout regimen.
My gaze slides to Bree, but her attention is on his face. The glow of the bonfire dances over her skin as we move into evening. Sierra has slipped away, probably to track down her son and drag him away from the ocean now that it’s becoming harder to see. I look for them along the shore, but Peter draws my attention back to the group.
“Did you notice Kyle talking to Sierra earlier?” he asks.
“No.” In all honesty, I haven’t really had eyes for anything but Bree. That’s obvious to Peter, so I don’t really have to tell him. Among our friends, there’s been an awkward…you can’t even call it a love triangle, because everyone is into someone else. Our surfing buddy Kyle wants to date Sierra, but the only guy she has eyes for is Colby, who is totally ignorant.
Or that’s how he’s playing it. I don’t actually know how he feels.
“They went for a walk on the beach while Jack was flying his kite. They found a couple of guys with cameras, so Sierra turned Jack around and came right back.”
“What are they shooting?” I ask.
“Don’t know, but it is kind of weird, right? Colby shoots the beach all the time, but not with three other people.”
“Maybe it was a class?” Bree suggests. I try to read her face,but with the shades and the growing darkness, she’s a mask of stone.
The half-eaten cupcake in her hand is being pulverized in her fist, though.
“Could be.” Peter shrugs.
“A walk sounds good,” I say, putting my arm around Bree. “What do you say?”
It’s clearly the last thing she wants to do right now, but I’m trying to give her an out. She looks up at me, then sends a smile to Peter. “Happy birthday. Thanks for letting me crash the party.”
He shrugs, glancing at me. “Any friend of Ben’s is welcome.”
I gently push between her shoulder blades and we slip toward the table, where I pick up a napkin and scrape the cupcake and frosting from her hand.
She looks down, watching me clean her palm. “Shoot. When did I do that?”
“We don’t know if they’re paps,” I whisper, tossing the used napkins in the large black bag. I don’t release her hand.
“It would make sense, though. I shared that story about Jaida loudly at the church, and clearly someone was there.”
“Probably a priest.”
“Wouldn’t he have come out thedoor? The one we were blocking?”
I’m sure there’s a back door to the building too, but that doesn’t help. It really could have been anyone. “We don’t know who they were or what they overheard. The group on the beach could have been a photography class or a group of friends. There are scary possibilities, but there are reasonable explanations, too.”
“It doesn’t stop me from feeling totally exposed, though,” she whispers, glancing around the party as though she’s counting each person and wondering if she can trust them. “I probably need to head home.”
I’m straddling the space between understanding the situation and wishing it was different. I tug, pulling her away from the crowd. I’ll text Colby that we left, and he can find a ride home with someone else. There are plenty of people he’d be happy to get a lift with. “We can slip out.”
Bree tucks herself against my side, holding my hand and leaning as we walk away from the light of the bonfire, following the path back through the sand dunes to the parking lot. These are the same sandy hills we cleaned up that first day together on the beach. It wasn’t even that long ago, yet it feels like a lifetime.
