Dad turns on the music as the doorbell rings again, and I offer to answer it. I don’t even contain my squeal of excitement when I open the door to find Julia and Stephen there, and I wrap my arms around her, pulling her into the house.
“Julia! It’s so good to see you!” I momentarily forget how nervous I was to have her here, instead letting my excitement take over.
She returns my embrace, laughing. “It’s nice to see you, too, Amy. We really do need to make a habit of seeing each other more than a few times a year. How’ve you been?”
We pull apart, and she shrugs her jacket off, handing it to a waiting Stephen before smoothing her chocolate-colored chin-length bob. Her husband hangs their coats before rejoining us, running his hand over his short, slightly wavy blond hair. He towers over her by at least five inches. Slowly, her eyebrows knit together and her blue eyes search mine carefully. Just like that, my nerves return full force, and I squirm like a worm on a hook under her scrutinizing stare. “I’ve, uh, been good. You?”
Then, out of nowhere, her expression changes from curious to excited. “You’ve met someone!” she squeals, drawing the attention of a few guests. Including my dad. “You’re going to tell me everything!”
“Tell you everything about what?”
I turn toward the sound of Owen’s voice, and practically combust upon seeing him dressed in a nice pair of jeans, white dress shirt, and red tie. He looks positively lickable, and I struggle to keep my composure. Aside from wanting to devour him, the first thing to go through my crazy mind is that we match. Unknowingly, we’d coordinated our wardrobes.
“About the guy she’s been seeing,” Julia chirps.
Her reply catches him off guard, and I don’t know what I expect his reaction to be, but it sure as hell isn’t slipping on the stair and stumbling slightly. He’s usually so graceful. He manages to catch himself, but not before both Julia and I gasp and reach out for him.
He laughs it off, his face reddening a little, and runs his hands through his hair. “Man, that last step came out of nowhere, huh?” He slaps his hands together, a look of resolve on his face as he sets out to change the topic. “Now, who wants a drink?”
Shit. I still need to talk to him about us not drinking too much. I look around at all the guests and decide that a couple now can’t hurt, so I follow him as he leads Julia and Stephen to the living room to get them set up.
With my glass of red wine in-hand, I go around the room and mingle. Naturally, I catch both Ethan and Ben with a couple bottles of beer and have to take them away. It’s not that I’m entirely innocent when it comes to having a good time before the ripe old age of twenty-one, but if my dad were to catch them…well, shit would hit the fan. We can’t condone underage drinking. It just can’t happen. He might not be a cop, but my dad still lives by a code and abides by the law.
After talking with the Carlsons’, I migrate my way back to where Dad and Carla are talking with Owen, Stephen, and Julia by the Christmas tree. Owen looks uncomfortable, and naturally, my curiosity piques. I slip between Dad and Julia, standing across their little circle from Owen and shooting him a quick smile.
“What’re we talking about?” I ask, taking a sip of my second glass of wine. My arms and legs have that delightful warm tingle running through them, signaling that I’m well on my way to being a little bit drunk, and my head feels only slightly fuzzy.
Dad barks a laugh, and Owen inhales deeply. The look in his eyes as he averts them tells me that he wishes this conversation would be over, and I don’t understand his reaction until my dad opens his mouth. “Remember when I was in the city a few weeks ago? Well, after I went to your place to find you’d gone out, I decided to stop by Owen’s place to see if he wanted to go for dinner…”
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.
“…and I’d arrived at the worst possible time. Apparently he’s met someone.”
“Not apparently,” Julia pipes up, making Owen groan and my palms sweat around my glass. “I’ve noticed he’s been acting differently, but he refuses to say anything about her.”
I repeat: oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.
I glance around the room, trying to remain nonchalant about all of this, but my heart pounds like a jackhammer against my ribs, and my mouth feels like it’s full of cotton balls. Not even finishing my wine seems to be helping. When my eyes catch Stephen’s, I smile weakly, but he eyes me almost as intensely as Julia had earlier, so I decide to throw them off. Or, I hope that’s what I do.
“Well, who is she?” I ask, really hoping that no one notices the tremble in my voice.