Page 49 of Beautiful Disaster

A splash of pink blooms on his cheeks, and he smiles shyly. I’ll never understand how we both lived through that motel of horrors, and he still came out so tender and sweet. He’s just stronger than I’ll ever be.

“Would you like to be our best man? Like, for Julien and me. You’re our brother, and you’ve been through thick and thin with us.”

I stop, shove my shovel into the ground, and lean on the handle. I’m filled with this profound love for my friend. Best friend. I never deserved it, but he gives so easily to this friendship.

“Anything, Aleks. I’ll fucking give you anything.” The words are unexpected as they spill from my mouth. I don’t think he was expecting them either, judging by the wide eyes and mouth falling open.

As I start shoveling the shit again, dumping it into the wheelbarrow, he gently grabs my arm. “Hey, thanks, Jinx. I don’t want anything. Just you and your happiness. Are you… happy here?”

I look at the others, but the only one pretending not to listen is Julien, as he glances up at us and quickly averts his eyes.

“Yeah, this is a good place, man.” I wish I had the balls to tell him how I really feel about it.

He beams at me before we’re back to work.

I don’t understand why he wants me as a best man. I’ve brought him nothing but pain and suffering.

“I can’t wait for Italy,” he says, raking up old hay. “We were supposed to get married here, but I’ve seen pictures over there. The place is stunning. You should see the buildings, Jinx. They’re ancient. It’s fucking magical.”

I swallow the lump and try to smile. “Sounds nice, man.”

“I sometimes wish…” He looks away and finishes his task.

“Wish what?”

He frowns and shrugs. “That we… I dunno… had a family. Like, we had parents or siblings who loved us and would be at our wedding.” His frown quickly shifts into a smile. “But we have you, Foxy, and Tink. We’re going to have so much fucking fun.”

“Screw parents, amirite? We’ve got a good family here,” I say.

“Yeah, we really do.”

Aleks sets down his rake and steps close, looking down at me with those mismatched eyes. Everyone’s fucking taller than me. Even him.

“What?” I ask.

He suddenly gathers me in his arms and pulls me into a hug, squeezing tight. “Can’t… breathe.”

“Tough shit.”

I pat his back and ease him off, then rub my neck. “Ah, thanks.”

He rolls his eyes but doesn’t stop smiling. “You need more affection in your life, dork.”

I say nothing and return to work, wishing I had it in me to be affectionate back.

It’s after three in the afternoon when I toss my bag onto the passenger seat and hop into my old pickup to drive to Mason’s place. I love this fucking truck. It makes me feel taller. It’s 32 years old and will outlast me. Better than those newer trucks. It has character, too, and I love that it’s bright red. Everyone can see me coming.

It’s bouncy as hell, the engine rumbling loudly, as I drive on the dirt road before I hit the main one.

The heater is cranked, but it barely spits out any warmth, and I have the radio blasting some familiar classic rock song through worn speakers, but I can’t begin to name who the band is or the song.

I’m fucking hyped for this weekend. I’ve been counting down the days.

I hit another country road, and Mason’s house looms in the distance. It’s almost four, and the sun is slowly starting to sink behind the mountains, casting an orange glow across the valley.

After parking my truck, I get out and knock on his door with my bag slung over my shoulder. As soon as he opens it, my stomach twists and turns again. His smile knocks the wind out of me. We’ve talked so much since we met that I feel like I’ve known him my entire life.

“I’m glad you’re here, Precious.”