“Thank you, Jim.” West shakes my father’s hand and pats him on the back.
“You’ve always been a part of this family, son.”
14
Weston
Sometimes, we’re walking on eggshells. Crosby and I only touch and show affection at my house or, when we’re feeling risky, in my office. I fall deeper for her every day, and watching our future unfold together is how I plan on spending the rest of my life. But around Asa, we’re cautious. We don’t want to rock the boat. He knows, I confessed long ago, but I’m not sure if he understands how far it’s grown. That I want to make Crosby my wife and the mother of my children. That I deflowered his little sister, exactly like I promised him I wouldn’t.
He’s been to the doctor this week and was cleared for drinking alcohol. It’s not a huge deal, but we’re hell-bent on celebrating the baby steps like Callie has taught us. That means the three of us are out at a bar. Crosby is underage, and Callie couldn’t come because she had to see to another patient.
I’m trying to voluntarily be the third wheel on this date. I don’t want to come between Asa and his little sister; I know how much she means to him.
We have a booth, and Crosby arrives late, coming from class. She’s got a backpack slung over her shoulder, wearing a dress with black boots, her strawberry hair thrown into a high ponytail. My heart lurches in my chest when I see her, so I smile and wave.
“Don’t do that, man,” Asa says as he takes a sip of the first beer he’s had in ages.
He doesn’t want me to smile? This is going to be a long night.
“Hey, guys!” Crosby leans down and kisses us each on the cheek. “I’m just gonna leave this here and go a grab a beer.”
“No drinking!” I say at the exact same time Asa proclaims, “Okay!” We have a face-off across the table. I have to step back and let him be the big brother. I can’t act possessive or tell Crosby what to do.
Crosby looks back and forth between the two of us. She sighs. The energy is the same as it was when we were younger—with Crosby getting the raw deal, having to listen to the both of us.
Asa lets the love of my life get drunk. She drinks his beers and talks a mile a minute about school and Milan, Callie and dresses, spring break and television series no one has ever heard of. I stay silent and stoically hold it all in. I feel like Asa is challenging me to do something or say something—disapprove of the way he’s interacting with the woman I love.
“Before we hired Callie, while I was still away, Dad did two rounds of chemo. Weston took care of Dad for us because Mom had to work.”
I’d never told him. I didn’t want to distract him from the important work he was doing overseas. I didn’t want to risk him getting himself into trouble and getting injured due to stressing about his home life and what kind of treatment his father was or wasn’t getting.
I see Asa perk up. He looks at me curiously as he listens to Crosby. I sip my beer and try to listen to the music, instead wishing there were a way to be both Crosby’s lover and Asa’s best friend.
“It was you who taught me never to settle, Asa. That’s why I ended up with West. Because nobody besides him would ever be good enough. You made me want to aim high. Weston is the best man I’ve ever known.”
Crosby is drunk. I’ll have to make sure she gets some food in her stomach before she goes to bed. I’m annoyed Asa is letting her drink, but at the same time, it’s somewhat adorable to watch her spill her guts, especially when she says nice things about me.
I drive them home and make sure Crosby eats a sandwich before she tumbles into bed. I want to ask Asa if he needs help, but I’m pretty sure he’s mobile enough to do ninety-nine percent of the things he used to do on his own. I let myself out the front door, careful not wake up Jim, who’s asleep in his hospital bed in the living room.
After trotting down the front steps, hands in my pockets, I’m surprised to see Asa standing in the driveway.
“Up for a game of HORSE?”
“I’ll take a rain check.”
He lifts his chin at me. We stand, mirror images of the other, hands in pockets, shrugging shoulders, both aching to be friends again.
“Are you in love with her?”
“I am,” I say, making serious eye contact.
“You’ll never break her heart? Can you promise me that? Keep her safe from ever getting hurt?”