Bad Ideas (First & Forever 4)

When George had owned this house, the formal dining room had been little more than a place to store stuff. But Eden and Casey had cleared it out, painted the walls a pretty shade of pale blue, and refinished the table. Since the last time I’d been in here, they’d also bought a stylish set of chairs with blue-on-blue geometric print cushions. They clearly were in full nesting mode, and it amazed me how much they’d gotten done in just a few weeks.

The gleaming mahogany table was beautifully set. At each place setting, modern white china, linen napkins, and an awful lot of silverware was perfectly arranged on a dark blue placemat. In the center of the table, serving plates of different heights were interspersed with white and blue floral arrangements.

I idly wondered how much of this was Seth’s doing, or if it was all Eden. My brother and I had grown up in a blue collar household, where Saturday breakfast was a bowl of cereal in front of the TV. Eden, meanwhile, had been raised by a pair of workaholic restaurateurs with a taste for the finer things in life. His situation at home hadn’t been ideal, since his parents were always working and he’d almost had to raise himself. Once we became friends during our senior year of high school, he’d practically moved into my house. It was shabby compared to what he was used to, but he said he loved it. He even used to make fun of his parents’ upscale lifestyle. Some of that taste and culture had obviously seeped into him, though.

When Eden entered the room, carrying a white ceramic dish with some sort of quiche, I looked at Seth. Just like I knew he would, my brother instantly came to life. Love shone from his eyes, and he automatically gravitated to Eden’s side. Eden lit up in exactly the same way. He added the dish to the gorgeous display in the center of the table and slid his arm around Seth’s waist. Only then did he look around the room. When his gaze finally landed on me, he smiled and said, “Hey, birthday boy. How’ve you been?”

“You know, same as ever.” I glanced at him again. Eden looked good, same as always. He was six-four and muscular, with very short hair, a radiant smile, and warm, dark eyes. We were the same age, but while I looked tired and showed every one of my years, he was as flawless as a movie star and appeared to be considerably younger than me.

The one good thing was that my attraction to him had finally dissipated. I could look at him and appreciate the fact that he was an exceptionally handsome man, but there wasn’t that longing anymore. There was just a tinge of sadness.

Okay, so maybe it was more than a tinge, and no matter how hard I tried to just be happy for Eden and Seth, it felt weird to be here. This place had gone from a home we all shared to their perfect little love nest. Moving out had been my idea—and it had definitely been the right call—but that didn’t make it any less painful. We’d been a trio, the very best of friends. Now, I was an outsider.

This wasn’t the time to be a downer though, so I pulled up a big smile and teased Eden about his hoity-toity “tablescape” while various dishes were passed around. I heaped my plate and tucked into the food, which was all delicious. The thing in the white dish turned out to be a frittata, and there were also lots of veggies and several healthy side dishes, because Eden was all about that.

While George and Flora gossiped about some friends of theirs, Eden glanced at Seth and smiled. Probably without even thinking about it, he caressed his boyfriend’s cheek, then leaned in and kissed his forehead. It was sweet and tender, and it seemed like for a few moments, they forgot the rest of the world existed. Then both of them snapped out of their trance and glanced at me at the same time.

And that was exactly why this was so awkward. They looked…not guilty, exactly. It was more like concern. They were going out of their way not to rub their relationship in my face, which made me feel awful, like I was making them uncomfortable in their own home.

I got worried about all of this becoming awkward as hell, so for lack of any better ideas, I went into full loveable buffoon mode. It was what I did best. I practically did a stand-up comedy routine about the trendy health food we’d been served—the kale salad, and the bulgur wheat concoction, and hey, what’s the deal with quinoa anyway? Everyone laughed, and the meal seemed to flow smoothly. Even so, I really just wanted it to be over.