"It wasn't that big of a deal," I said as I moved out of Easton's grasp and reignited the part of my brain that had nearly fried while getting the shoulder massage from Easton. "The guy invited me to his grandmother's eightieth birthday party...."
"Wait, this was a first date, right?" Easton asked, and I nodded.
"And you accepted an invite to a family party?" Easton's brows furrowed the same way they did any time he was confused. I liked to think of myself as an expert on all of Easton's many faces.
"No-o," I said slowly because I knew Easton wasn't going to like the part where a guy tricked me.
His eyes narrowed immediately, and he began to rub his hands over his denim clad thighs. Did I mention I loved a guy in jeans? And Easton practically lived in them. At least when he wasn't in athletic shorts while doing whatever new death-defying act he was filming for his channel.
"He lied to you?" Easton asked.
I shrugged because, in all honesty, it was more of an omission than an actual lie.
"Didn't Whit set you up with this guy?" Easton continued.
I knew this wasn't going to end well. Easton played the part of protective big brother better than my own, and let me tell you, my own did a good enough job, thank you. My brother, Sam, had been waiting on the front porch with a shotgun when my date to my first dance showed up. Cliché, I know, but it had worked like a charm. The boy had been a gentleman the whole night and dropped me off well before my curfew. Luckily I hadn't really liked the guy or I would have killed Sam myself.
"Yes, so I'm sure he's a great guy," I said. Harry might have been a bit of a dud, but he didn't deserve Easton coming after him.
"His mom greeted me like she already knew me," I said, and Easton went from angry to confused in point two seconds if I was reading his brows correctly. Which I was.
"So did his grandmaw. Anyway, it was incredibly awkward because I guess Harry let them believe we'd been dating a while and were even getting married soon. He was left at the altar by his ex.… Anyway, it was a whole thing."
"Sounds like a winner," Easton said under his breath, but at least he was no longer steaming at the ears.
"Hey, I doubt the altar thing was his fault." I defended Harry even though being left could have very well been his fault. I hardly knew the guy, contrary to popular belief in his family.
"Anyway, long story short, I think I stole a family heirloom," I said, feeling my own ears go red. I slid down in my seat as my eyes met with the cup that I'd moved from the bathroom to sit on the table behind the couch.
"Wait, hold up. What?" Easton asked. His eyes lit up with humor.
I shook my head. "His grandmaw handed me a cup that she explained was the one Harry had used as a kid. She said she wanted our kids to use it one day. And I just left ... with the cup," I said, taking a pillow from the couch and covering as much of my body as I could. I’d never stolen anything in my life. Of course my first time had to be from an eighty-year-old sweet lady. It wasn't on purpose, but it was taking something that didn't belong to me, all the same. I had to get that cup back to Whit and have her return it for me asap.
The corners of Easton's mouth twitched, and I knew he was long past being angry. My story had done its job.
"You took that cup?" Easton asked, pointing to the very cup in question.
"Not on purpose. Her declaration that Harry and my kids could have it threw me off, and ..." I let my voice trail off when laughter overtook my best friend. He doubled over, no longer hearing anything I said.
"It isn't that funny," I muttered when Easton failed to unfold himself or stop laughing for nearly a minute.
I turned my attention back to my breakfast, and Easton eventually downgraded from body shaking laughter to a chuckle.
"That is the best thing I've heard in a long time. I still want to hurt the guy for lying to you, but man, I'm glad the end of the night turned out the way it did," Easton said.
I ignored him, pretending my bacon was much more important than the man at my side. Which it wasn't. Nothing in my life topped Easton.
"So how long are you home this time?" I asked as I chomped down on a piece of now cold toast. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't good. I stood to put the whole plate in the microwave for a few seconds.
"We leave on Wednesday for New Zealand," Easton said.
As I walked to the kitchen, I let myself wonder what it would be like to travel to all the corners of the earth. For Easton there were no boundaries, just endless adventures awaiting him.
But I wasn't like Easton. I liked the steadiness of having a job I went to every day. Don't get me wrong, I loved my adventures sprinkled into the mix, but I didn't crave them the way Easton did. I was just grateful I was who he always came home to.
"Can't miss a Taco Tuesday," I said with a grin as I set my plate in the microwave.
"Not if I don’t want Whit to kill me. Did you know she keeps track of our attendance?" Easton asked, and I giggled. I didn't, but that was such a Whit thing to do.
"Apparently I've missed six out of our last twelve Tuesdays, and I have to keep my attendance above fifty percent," Easton said.
"Or what?" I asked as the microwave beeped and I took my plate, this time choosing to eat at the kitchen counter instead of in the living room. I needed a little space from Easton after he'd touched me so affectionately. The touch factor of our relationship went quite up and down since Easton was just an affectionate guy. But I think he could tell it made me uncomfortable. Although I would have been very, very comfortable about any touching were it not for the fact that I was trying to hide my ridiculous feelings for him.
"I didn't ask. Honestly, I don't want to know," Easton said.
I laughed, knowing Whit would love the healthy dose of fear Easton had of her. It wasn't easy banding together a group as eclectic as The Ten of Us, but somehow Whit had done it for ten years. And for that she was to be highly commended and maybe a little feared.
I dug into my food as Easton turned the game back on, and we fell into a comfortable silence. One I could imagine we'd have if we ever became a couple.
Whit had been encouraging me for months now to tell Easton the truth. She understood why I hid my feelings for a while. She had thought Easton would finally get a clue and notice I was in love with him when the time was right. But now she was sure Easton was too blockheaded, her words not mine, to ever see the truth. She said I'd have to hit him over the head with it.
Hitting anyone over the head with anything didn't seem to spell romance to me, so Whit hadn't won me over to her school of thought yet. Besides, I didn't see what was wrong with things exactly the way they were. Sure, I had to swallow the desire to press my lips against Easton's anytime he pulled me into a hug. And sure, I had to pretend it was alright with me that he dated the most idiotic women in the world. But our arrangement had worked for ten years, and I didn't see a reason to mess with what was working.
Especially if the alternative was no Easton in my life. If I scared him off, it would be all too easy for him to take up the very shallow roots he had here in Tennessee and base himself somewhere else. Anywhere else, like his production assistant and my rival in friendship, Priscilla, had been trying to get him to do for years. And then I'd lose him forever. That could. not. happen.