Kelly

I SHAMELESSLY GAWK AT MY GIRLFRIEND AS we sit outside on the café patio in Maybury for brunch, taking advantage of her distracted state. Her attention is across the street at the black wall of windows of the law firm. While she undoubtedly thinks about the asshole who mistreated her mother decades ago, my focus is on her rosy cheeks and the little puffs of breath that can be seen every time she sighs.

It's probably a little too chilly to be having brunch outside, but neither of us wanted to suffer through a stuffy restaurant scene. Instead, Sutton bundled up in one of my lined fleece jackets she found in the backseat of my truck, the thing nearly drowning her petite frame. She warms her hands on her steaming coffee mug, occasionally lifting it to her lips to take a sip.

The moment has a full circle feel to it. Or, maybe more accurately, a semi-circle feel to it. Months ago, when we were still in the thick of the suffocating heat of summer, we sat at this very spot together. Her attention was also focused across the street at the law firm that day. But back then, unlike today, we played along in the façade where we barely tolerated each other. Now I have the aftertaste of her pussy on my tongue, a souvenir from our morning activities.

I've always loved the weekends, but now that they're filled with long hours of alone time with my girl, they've become sacred in my mind. After we survive yet another brutal Friday night of ignoring each other at Roxy's, we rush home to start our weekend together.

Something is off this morning, though. Actually, it's been a little off since the impromptu visit from my dad a few days ago. I'm not sure if Sutton is picking up on my mood, the lingering doubts my dad planted taking root, or if she's stuck ruminating in her own feelings. And, to be completely honest, I'm a fucking coward and don't want to find out. I'd rather pretend the remnants from his visit don't exist. Because what if I ask her and she's honest and then we can't unknow the unsaid thing between us?

Sutton worries the heart pendant on the delicate chain around her neck, her eyes still focused across the street. When the waiter approaches our table with our food, she blinks herself back into the present, remembering her manners with a gracious thanks. She pushes her eggs around her plate with a fork, her gaze wandering back across the street.

"Baby girl," I say quietly and wait until she's looking at me. "Forget that asshole. He was a blip in your mom's history. She came back home and made a happy life for herself. That guy means very little in the grand scheme of things."

"I know. I was actually thinking about that pesky safety deposit box my uncle left us." She stuffs a heaping pile of eggs into her mouth, chewing a few times before continuing her thoughts. The right side of her mouth is puffed out with food, and I grin at how she resembles the cutest hamster. "If the mystery birth certificate wasn't for my mom's baby with the dickhead lawyer, then whose is it?"

I demolish the food on my plate, letting the question sit between us. Honestly, I couldn't give less fucks about the topic, but I know it's something she won't drop. She'll keep picking at it like a scab that never quite heals.

When I take out my wallet to pay at the tabletop kiosk, I snicker at the pale yellow Post-it stuffed between the folds. Peeling it off, I hold the crinkled paper in my hand, waving it in my girl's face. Immediately, she palms a hand to her mouth, but I see evidence of the smirk she's trying to hide.

"What's this?"

She grabs for it like she wants to steal it from me, but I hold it out of her reach. "You weren't supposed to find that while we were together." If her cheeks weren't already pink from the cold, I suspect they might be flushed with embarrassment.

I turn my back to look at the note without her interference and I'm momentarily shocked. Instead of a silly message, there's a crude drawing. Since her artistic abilities don't translate past flower arrangements, no one would claim it's a masterpiece but fuck if I don't want to frame it.

I peer at her over my shoulder, certain my cheeks are pink, and not from the cold. "What the fuck, baby girl?"

She groans, squirming in her chair. "Just give it back. I regret everything." With her hand extended toward me, she wiggles her fingers in my direction.

I smack her hand away. "Not happening. This is mine. Forever. I'll never get rid of it." I study the shapes that are barely more than disproportionate stick figures in a compromising position, filing the sexual position away for later to reenact; and then I fold it in half once and tuck it safely in my wallet. "We'll use this as our inspiration later, yeah?"

She huffs out a laugh and throws her cloth napkin at me. "You're the worst."

I set the napkin aside, push my chair back and help my girl to her feet. Before she can get far, I hook my arm around her waist, securing her to me as I duck my head to whisper in her ear. "Who knew you drew porn. Is this a secret hobby of yours?"

"Whatever." She squirms in my arms, trying to extricate herself. "Consider that your last ever love note."

"Love note?" I ask on a laugh. "How fucking romantic of you. Should I take up the artform of pornographic love notes, too, then? Would you prefer that to flowers and jewelry?"

When she attempts to escape my hold again, I let her wiggle free so I can quickly pay our bill. Then I catch up to her on the sidewalk, snagging her hand in mine and tug to slow her pace. "I'm just teasing, baby girl. I loved it. Got a semi actually. And we're definitely doing that later."

With a quick glance at my crotch, she bursts out laughing. "Jesus, Kelly. Just shut up about it already!"

I pull her out of the way of a family of four approaching us from the opposite direction, making room for their wide double stroller. Once they've passed, I crowd her space and press my lips firmly against hers for a quick kiss. "Never," I whisper against her mouth. "I'll never shut up about my favorite love note. I'm going to frame that shit. It's a masterpiece. And on the nights you don't warm my bed, I'll jack off to it, missing you like crazy."

She shoves my face away from hers and walks backwards away from me. "You're the actual worst, Kelly Ledger. The fucking worst. I just try to do something sexy for my guy, and this is how you treat me." She raises both hands out to her sides, spearing me with an incredulous look before spinning around and power walking down the sidewalk.

Maybury is busy this morning, families and couples and singles out shopping or zipping from one activity to another, so it takes me a few moments to catch up to my girl as I weave through the riff raff. It's the white-blonde hair, a beacon guiding me; and when I finally reach her, I tangle my hands in the long strands and tug lightly like it's a leash telling my dog to heel.

Pressing my body against her back, I use my hold on her hair to draw her head to the side, my mouth going to her neck. "It was sexy, baby girl. I loved it. Thank you."

Since we're in a public place with young children, I quickly come to her side, taking her hand and guiding us into the steadily moving traffic on the sidewalk. She glances at me and rolls her eyes when she spies my smirk. "Whatever," she says, but the slowly forming smile on her face gives her away. "You're ridiculous."

I don't argue. I can't. I am ridiculous. She makes me ridiculous. I'm fucking crazy for the girl.

I'm about to tell her as much when she suddenly stiffens, a gasp escaping her mouth. I follow her line of sight, a rush of icy fear coursing through my system, and I rip my hand from Sutton's and subtly put distance between our bodies as Jensen and Teddy weave their way through the crowded sidewalk in our direction.

"Relax," I whisper to Sutton without moving my lips. "Act cool."

She glances at me, her eyes wild. What I expect to find is my own fear mirrored on her face, but instead I discover the telltale signs of her burgeoning anger. Is she pissed at me? The situation? Or her brother for ruining our sacred weekend? Since I have no time to find out, I ignore it and face my approaching best friends.

They haven't seen us yet, lost in their own private moment. I envy them. The way they can stroll through town, hand in hand, laughing at their inside jokes without a single fear of being caught for their transgressions. Now I'm pissed. But I can't discern if I'm mad at the situation, my best friends or myself. Fuck, maybe it's all those reasons. I suspect it's mostly the last one, though. I'm the one to blame, right? The one insisting we keep our relationship a secret.

"Hey," I call, deciding to get the meeting over with. I see it, the moment they clock the both of us. First, their shocked expressions at seeing someone they know outside of their hometown and then it morphs into confusion, no doubt wondering why the two of us are together.

"Hey," Teddy says, stopping in front of us. People weave around us on the sidewalk, shooting us annoyed looks for blocking their paths. We don't move out of the way, though, locked in this weird vacuum of confusion.

Jensen looks between us, his earlier carefree expression replaced with his signature grumpy one. His suspicion is obvious, and I hold my breath, waiting for him to put the pieces together. "What's going on?" he asks; and then looks at his girlfriend when she tucks her arm through his. They share a look that I can't read; and I'm not sure if that pisses me off because once upon a time we were a trio and I'd be in on the silent communication or if I'm jealous of their public display, so openly together it consumes me with misplaced resentment.

It's Sutton who speaks up, saves us. "I was running errands when I bumped into this guy who keeps following me around like a lost puppy." She cups a hand over her mouth and lowers her voice. "I think he's lonely."

Teddy laughs. "Aww poor boy probably misses his best friend. It's my fault. I'm hogging him."

I look at Teddy and she widens her eyes at me, a sign that tells me she isn't buying it. I know I'll be hearing from her later and I inwardly groan.

"You guys are probably due for another bro date, huh?" Teddy asks her boyfriend, and Jensen groans.

"Baby, for the hundredth time, it's not a fucking bro date."

We all laugh at the interaction, but it falls flat, fake. The whole thing feels wrong. So fucking wrong.

After a few more minutes of forced conversation, Jensen and Teddy stroll off to whatever destination they were heading, and Sutton and I begin walking again. This time I don't reach for her hand; and I keep checking over my shoulder for prying eyes. The moment feels ruined. Spoiled. And I'm not sure how to save it.

Should I run after Jensen? Stop him on the street and shout that I'm head over fucking heels in love with his sister? That I'm terrified of coming clean in case he makes me choose. What if he makes me choose?

Sutton's sniffling pulls me back into the present and I see tears streaming down her pink cheeks. Fuck me. The sight guts me. With a tentative hand on her lower back, I guide her to a slight alleyway between two buildings. It's warmer here out of the wind. I back her up against the brick building, needing to create a safe bubble for us to exist in, with my arms on either side of her body. She looks up at me with sad, blue eyes, and I fucking hate the sight of it.

"Baby girl," I whisper, wiping the tears away. "Jesus, Sutton. I'm so sorry."

She sighs, breaking eye contact. "I know." Her voice is soft, defeated.

"I'm scared," I admit. I say it so low, I'm afraid the wind stole my confession, sweeping in through the gap in the buildings and swooping it right up with the dried leaves rustling around our feet. I repeat it, louder this time. "I'm scared, Sutton."

She looks at me, moisture coating her eyelashes from the unshed tears, but she doesn't say anything.

"I want to shout it to the whole world. This is my girl!" I cup her cheek, my thumb swiping away the residual tears. "I fucking hate hiding. Jesus, I hate it, Sutton. But I'm scared."

"Why?" She blinks up at me, a few tears escaping and wetting my hand. "What are you so scared of, Kelly?"

It's my turn to look away. But just like I've denied her so many times, she won't allow me the space. "Why, Kelly? Just explain it to me. I'm so confused. I want to understand." She tugs on the material of my shirt at my stomach, demanding my attention. "Why, Kelly? Why are you scared?"

"You heard my dad, Sutton," I say, turning back to face her, meeting those stormy eyes straight on. "I'm not really one of you. And if this goes south..." I suck in a harsh breath, hold it in for a few beats and release it in a rush. "Baby girl, I could lose everything."

"You're not going to lose anything, baby. You're an honorary Anderson for life. You're stuck with us." She wraps her small arms around my waist, and I try to find the truth in her words. I know she means them, believes they're true, but doubts still niggle me.

I press my mouth to hers, the taste of coffee lingering on her lips. "Ok," I whisper into her mouth. "Ok." And I'm not sure if I'm placating her or myself. "I'll tell him. Soon. I promise. Soon, ok?"

She nods; and I wonder who she's placating—me or herself?