The Enemy (It Happened in Charleston 2)

She responds move for move, pressing up on her tiptoes, breathing in deep, and clasping her arms around my neck to pull me in closer. She doesn’t want me to stop. My lips part, and I taste the mint Chapstick on her bottom lip. This kiss says we’re not just friends anymore. It’s romantic and intense, and that’s when I remember it’s also happening in the middle of a crowd.

I peel my mouth away from hers and look down at her thoroughly kissed face. Her lips are red and swollen, and her eyelids slowly flutter open until my favorite color of green pierces me.

“I changed my mind,” I say over the music, running my thumb along her jaw. “I want that date.”

June blinks and swallows before she says, “…Okay.”

Chapter Eighteen

June

“That was some serious lip locking on the dance floor last night,” says Jake over the phone as I’m folding clothes on my bed. I use the word folding loosely.

“Lip locking? Are you in a 90s Mary-Kate and Ashley movie right now?”

“What do you want me to call it?” I’d rather him call it nothing, because I’m not thrilled that my big brother saw the best kiss of my entire life as it was taking place.

But Jake and Evie were at the wedding, so they saw the whole thing. Everyone did. Everyone except for Stacy and Logan because they were too busy staring at each other with googly eyes. But the moment Ryan and I parted, the whole dance floor exploded with whistles and applause. My face will now be a permanent strawberry. Stacy thought the applause was for her and Logan. I’m good with her thinking that.

“Oh, I don’t know…it’s just a wild idea, but you could call it a kiss?”

He laughs, and then I hear Evie somewhere in the background yell, “That was not a kiss! I saw tongues moving!! If Sam had been there, I would have covered her eyes!”

My stomach tightens. “Am I on speaker?”

“Yep, sure are, baby sister.”

I groan. It’s Sunday, so I feel the need to ask, “Who else is there listening?”

“Everyone,” says Jake like it’s no big deal that my entire giant family of nosey Southern loons is listening in on my private conversation about sucking face with a man.

“Hi, Sugar!” says Mama in a bright tone. “I wish I’d been there. Your daddy couldn’t have picked a worse night to get a migraine. But I heard all about it from Suzy Johnson.” Just to catch you up on how fast word travels around our town, Suzy Johnson is my mama’s hairstylist. “I went in this morning to get my roots touched up and heard everyone talking about how Ryan Henderson was practically resuscitating you on the dance floor! Now, catch me up to speed because, last I heard, he made you madder than a mule chewin’ bumblebees.”

“Which one is Ryan again?” That’s my daddy chiming in now.

“He’s the boy from high school that June was always swearing she didn’t like, but we all knew better.”

I lay my phone down onto the bed and walk to the kitchen to get a glass of iced tea because I know they don’t really need me for this conversation. I also pop a bag of popcorn before going back to my room and picking up my phone again. “…no, that was Brad. You’re still not thinking of the right one. We hated Brad, but I always thought Ryan was a sweetheart.”

“Okay, guys, I’m going to let you go now!” I say, taking advantage of Mama’s need to breathe.

“WAIT!” everyone shouts in unison on the other end. I smile because my family is as crazy as the day is long. I love them.

“What time are you coming over?” Jake asks.

My family gets together every Sunday. During the summertime, we have one long sun-up to sun-down pool party. Family comes and goes as they want, but usually, we all end up staying the whole day. It’s a good time. And during the winter, when it’s too cold to get in the pool, we play games and watch movies.

I know it’s normal to hate your family, but mine is generally unhateable. They are sweet, and accepting, and completely intrusive, but it’s actually one of their most loveable qualities.

But today, I’m tired, and I just sort of feel like being alone. Or…maybe it’s that I don’t feel like being alone around them. All of my siblings are married. They all have kids. Most days, I’m fine with my single life. You know, strong, independent woman and all that. But today, my best friend is married and gone, and it just feels too hard to go look on at the lives of my family and feel that gaping hole.

“Actually, I didn’t get home until late last night, and I’m exhausted. I think I’ll just see you guys next weekend.”

Everyone protests. My sisters all shout LAMMMEEE and BOOOO, but Jake is the one to say, “Love ya, June. We’ll see you next Sunday.”

We hang up, and I toss my phone onto my bed again, eyeing the giant pile of laundry mocking me. It knows I’ll never get around to folding it. It knows that I’ll leave it here all day, folding a shirt here or there, and then at bedtime, I’ll dump all of these clothes back into the hamper so I can get under the covers. We’ve been doing this dance for a whole week now, darlin’. You’re never gonna fold me. Apparently, my pile of laundry is Southern too.

I stand up and meander around the house, munching my popcorn, spritzing water on my potted plants, opening and closing the fridge a few times, hoping a delicious dessert will magically appear one of those times, and then checking my phone eighteen times to see if Ryan has texted me. He hasn’t. And I’m mad at myself for even caring. So what? He wants a date. He’s lengthening his stay in Charleston. He kisses like freaking Casanova, and it’s all I can think about. Like I said, so what?