"It's always good to be close to family."
Bailey busies herself filling water glasses, and Mia bites her lip and stares at Sebastian. For the first time it occurs to me that maybe she didn't tell her father about working here. Her old man would probably go on a tear if he knew. Does Sebastian know that?
"You should probably go check on dinner," Gwen says to Mia.
Mia nods and scurries out of the room, Bailey not far behind.
"Did you know Mr. Muscles was on the team?" Bailey asks. "Because damn. Sebastian Mother-May-I? And the way he was looking at you? I think he would have tried to devour you whole if he didn't have an audience."
I pull the broiling pan from the oven and sprinkle the filet with blue cheese crumbles before sliding the pan back in to let it melt. "You have an overactive imagination. He was looking at me like that because he knows how my dad would feel about me working here. Not everything is sexual."
"Not everything." She cuts a slit in each of the foil-wrapped potatoes and then positions them on the plates lining the counter. "But most things, and definitely the way he was eye-fucking you."
Sebastian definitely wasn't eye-fucking me-he was looking at me like a guy who knows how my father would feel about my job-but there's no use arguing any such thing with Bailey. She sees what she wants to see.
We work in silence for a few minutes, then she sighs heavily and turns to me. "Ask me about Mason."
"What? Why?"
"I've been good. I don't ask questions. I don't demand you tell me things normal best friends tell each other. So ask me about Mason so I can talk about the damn elephant in the room."
I fold my arms. "Fine. What's going on with you and Mason?"
"Nothing. I broke it off when Nic got out of prison."
"I remember." She fed me some bullshit excuse about things getting too serious between the two of them, but I knew the truth. Nic was home, and she needed to be available.
"Mason has been nothing but a friend for me since," she says. "Trust me, I wanted more after Nic died, but Mason says we can't be just sex anymore. He said we're in too deep for that, so he's holding out. No sex unless I'll be his girlfriend, and you and I both know I'm not in a place to sign up for that. So. Your turn."
"Wait. Slow down. Mason won't sleep with you?"
"Selfish motherfucker, isn't he?"
I bite my lip. "I kind of respect his restraint. He cares about you, and he wants more. It's sweet."
She narrows her eyes. "It's sexual blackmail." Grabbing the potholder, she opens the oven, pulls out the steaks, and begins adding them to the plates. I follow behind her with the green beans.
"Let's get these on the table before they get cold," I say, grabbing a few plates.
We serve dinner and refill drinks. Sebastian watches me with undisguised curiosity the whole time, but we're able to escape the dining room without another awkward conversation.
"The elephant!" Bailey says when we're back in the kitchen.
"What's the elephant?"
She grabs my hand and pulls me into the living room and out the French doors. "Arrow. I'm going to be honest, I was hoping him coming home might be good for you. Good for you both." Her eyes are soft and gentle, and I know all I have to do is say that I don't want to talk about it and she'll let it drop.
"I'm the reason Brogan was in the middle of the street in the middle of the night. Arrow should hate me for that. How could being around him be good for me?"
She tilts her head and squeezes my shoulder. "I thought maybe he'd help you live your life instead of hiding from it."
"I'm not hiding." The words come out sharper than I intend.
"Don't be mad. I'm being selfish. I never see you anymore. I miss you."
"You're not selfish." I drop my gaze to my hands. I hoped the fresh air would do me good, but the night is hot and I can't breathe much better out here than I could in there. "And you're not the first person to say I'm not really living. Arrow has said the same thing." If I've been avoiding my life it isn't a conscious choice, but I understand why they see it that way. I didn't think it mattered. Who cares if I just go through the motions? Who cares if I never feel sincerely happy again?
I know Bailey cares. And I guess Arrow does, too. I'm not sure what to make of that.
"Do you ever wish you'd picked Arrow?" she asks softly.
Lifting my head, I study the wispy clouds floating across the starry night sky. "I don't know. All I know is that I wish we hadn't been out there that night. I wish Brogan could still laugh and Nic could still be my overprotective big brother. I don't think of what would have happened if I'd picked Arrow." I swallow hard, pushing down tears before they surge too high. "I think, what would things be like if I'd stayed away from both of them like I said I would when I met them? Brogan would be himself. We wouldn't have been out there that night. And Nicholas would still be alive."
"Are you okay, Mee? I mean, do you need to talk to someone?"
"I'm talking to you."
"You've been through a lot. No one expects you to be Wonder Woman. I'm just saying . . ." She finds my hand and squeezes. "If you ever think not living would be easier than living, call me first, okay?"
"Okay," I say. I swallow hard. I remember talking to her about Romeo and Juliet the night I met Arrow. We laughed, remembering what an idiot Juliet was. I never understood her before. Not really. But now I can imagine what it was like to wake up in that tomb and see Romeo dead beside her. The guilt. The grief. I'm not looking for a dagger, and I don't want to die. But there are days-maybe more than I want to admit-when I don't want to live either. "I'm not Juliet," I whisper. "Don't worry about that."
"Damn straight you're not," she says, "because you've got me. You wake up from the poison and instead of grabbing the dagger to stab into your heart when you see Romeo is dead, I drag your ass out of there and point out that the friar is pretty fucking fly, too."
"The friar?" That is so Bailey it makes me laugh, only it's not the forced laugh I've been pushing through my lips for months. It's real, and something brightens inside the darkness in my chest. "If only Shakespeare had given Juliet someone like you."
"Would have been a better play."
We grin at each other and settle into silence. It's so pretty out here with the stars and the lights reflecting off the pool.
"Dinner was great," someone says behind us, and just like that the moment of tranquility fizzles into thin air. Sebastian closes the doors behind him and takes the steps down to the patio. "But I have to admit, you were the last person I expected to see here tonight."
I shrug. "Now you know how I feel. Why did you let me think you were a mechanic?"
He unbuttons his shirt sleeves and rolls them to his elbows. "Because I am a mechanic, Mia. Dad's owned the shop all my life, and I practically grew up there."
"You made me believe-"
"You assumed," he says, his voice gentler than the truth. "Not all of us are like Woodison and get to play our way through college and have everything we need handed to us."
I tense. "He's not like that."
"And how much do you know about what Woodison is and isn't like?" He turns his head and scans the brick façade of the backside of the house. "You two must be pretty cozy living here together."
"Oh, fuck off," Bailey says. "Don't act like you have to work for your meal ticket and then judge her for taking a really fucking great job."
He turns. "I don't think I was talking to you."
Bailey leans against the side of the house and rolls her head from side to side. "When you're out here trying to shame my girl? You might as well be talking to me."
"Bailey, it's okay." I turn to Sebastian. "There's nothing going on between me and Arrow, but please don't tell my dad I'm working here. He would freak."
"And yet here you are," Sebastian says.
"Somebody's gotta pay the bills."
I expect more argument-that there are other jobs in town, that this isn't the only choice I have-but I don't get any. Sebastian nods slowly. "I get that."
"Crap," Bailey says. She wipes the back of her hand across her sweaty forehead. "Mrs. Woodison is in the kitchen. I bet she's looking for us."