I stack the books from Samantha neatly on a bookshelf in my room and shove the large suitcase in the closet just as Landon peeks in the door.
“All settled?”
“Pretty much,” I say, brushing a loose strand of hair off my forehead, tucking it behind my ear.
“Good. Wanna do something with me?” He has a cocky grin on his face.
“I don’t know. I don’t like the look you have on your face right now,” I say, standing with my hands on my hips.
“Come on; it’ll be fun. Change into shorts. It’s warm out.” He shuts the door quickly, not allowing me time to question him further. I change into a pair of knee-length khaki shorts and a bright yellow tank top and slide on a pair of brown leather sandals. I pull my long hair back into a ponytail and grab my purse on the way out of the bedroom.
“Let’s go,” Landon urges me as he waits for me by the front door.
“Where are we going?” I ask as I close the front door behind me.
“Golfing.” He smiles.
I glance at him out of the corner of my eye.
“I hate golf.”
“You used to love golfing with me.”
“I was seventeen and liked who you were golfing with, not the actual sport of golf.”
“You used me for my friends?” He feigns hurt, then starts laughing. I can’t help but laugh in return. “It’ll be fun. A little brother-sister bonding, plus Reagan won’t ever golf with me.”
“I don’t blame her,” I balk. “Don’t you usually go with Matt?” It’s funny how his name just falls from my lips so naturally, yet it still stings so much.
“Yeah, he’s still in Europe. Extended his trip, I guess.” He shrugs. “So you get to golf with me today.” He turns the car into the parking lot of a golf course that is attached to their community. “Perks of buying this house; it comes with a golf membership.”
“Swanky.” I roll my eyes at him in mock disgust and he laughs at me. Landon puts my old set of golf clubs in the back of the cart next to his while I change into my old golf shoes. I can’t believe they still fit.
“You know, the good thing about golf shoes is that they’re so hideous, they never really go out of style,” I tease him. “Who knew a pink Nike swoosh could stand the test of time?”
“This isn’t a fashion show, Linds. We’ve got some serious golfing to do, and I need to kick your ass doing it.”
“Really?” I smirk. “Well, game on. Last I remember, you’ve got a terrible slice.” He mumbles something under his breath while sliding into the golf cart. I laugh out loud, knowing that I hit a sore spot with him. We spend the afternoon on a nearly empty course. It’s nice to spend time with Landon and just enjoy the last days of summer. It’s warm, but the sun feels good on my face and I tilt my head back and soak up the rays while Landon gets ready to tee off on the eighteenth hole. It won’t be more than a few weeks before the days start cooling down.
He swings and hits the ball perfectly. “Nice shot,” I commend him as we get into the cart. “This was really fun today. Thanks for dragging my sorry ass out here.” I lean over and bump his shoulder with mine. “Maybe we can do this again sometime.”
“I’d like that.” He turns his head and smiles at me.
“So what, only a few more weeks until the wedding? I can’t believe how fast that’s snuck up on us. What are you guys doing for the bachelor party?” I raise my eyebrows and look over the top of my sunglasses at him.
“I’m not sure yet. Matt’s planning it, and since he’s not home yet, I honestly don’t know what the plans are.”
“Ah, well, he’ll make sure it’s perfect,” I say quietly. “He’s a good friend to you. I don’t want things to be weird with you two because of me.”
He sighs as we park the cart and get out on the green. “It’s hard for it not to be weird Lindsay, but I want you to know something. You are my family, my blood. He is my friend. You will always come first. The nice thing is, with Matt, I know he’d never make me choose. He’ll always be my friend.” He smiles a crooked smile at me. “Now let’s wrap this up so I can officially call myself the winner.”
“You’re only three strokes ahead of me. Anything can happen.” I laugh at him.
We finish the game with Landon being victorious. “This just feeds your ego,” I say, shoving my putter into the golf bag.
“I hate losing,” he smirks. “Even to my baby sister.”
“Jerk,” I grumble in a kidding manner and he laughs at me.