Incandescent

“It’s called Worthy’s Salvage Shop,” I said. “And Marcus is also helping us update the kitchen.”

“Ah, now it’s all falling into place,” Donna said with a smile in Marcus’s direction. “How do you two know each other again?”

Marcus glanced briefly my way before replying, “From the grief group, ma’am.”

Her eyes widened with surprise before softening in sympathy. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” he replied. “And for yours as well.”

A loud group of what looked like middle-schoolers approached the stairs—the boys dressed in NFL sports gear and the girls in soccer outfits, which looked to be authentic—their chatter drowning out Donna’s response.

Fuck, this was awkward, but I didn’t know why it should be, other than it was a buzzkill. Just because Marcus and I had fooled around didn’t mean anyone had to know. But it almost felt disingenuous in front of Grant’s grandmother. And truth be told, I felt a little queasy, as if I’d betrayed someone instead of simply grabbing on to a bit of joy in the form of warm lips and strong hands.

“You’re King George III from that musical,” a parent holding on to a toddler’s hand said in an animated voice. Grant looked back at Marcus, the two of them sharing a knowing grin. Even that felt uncomfortable. Christ.

“And from, like, history,” Grant replied with a laugh as he placed a snack-sized chocolate bar in the kid’s bag.

“Yes, of course,” the parent replied. “Hamilton wasn’t exactly accurate.”

“True,” Grant said, and I wondered if he’d go off about all the ways the musical had taken liberties. He loved to debate pretty much anything, and I tensed, suddenly wanting this portion of the evening to come to an end. Her child had wandered away from her, however, and she needed to catch up with her across the lawn.

Marcus took a seat on the porch, allowing Donna to sit with Grant on the stoop, and we watched silently while sipping the remainder of our beers. He could definitely tell the mood had soured, and I couldn’t find it in me to fix it. Not even with a corny joke.

“Looks like the crowd is dying down for the night,” Donna pointed out when there was a lull in the traffic. From the looks of it, she was right. The crowded sidewalks had cleared, and a couple of neighbors across the street had already shut off their porch lights, likely because they were out of candy. We were running low as well, but I knew to buy extra so Grant would have plenty of his own stash to snack on later. He needed a reward for his efforts.

“I think you’re right,” I replied, just as Jeremy walked up with his younger siblings, both in angel costumes. Grant jumped up, a huge grin on his face upon seeing his friend, and I absently wondered why Jeremy had chosen our neighborhood since his was probably plenty busy.

I waved to Grant’s friend, and they talked for a couple of minutes, Grant motioning excitedly about something as Jeremy reached out to touch his crown.

Marcus pulled out his cell, possibly to check the time, then stood with his empty beer bottle. “I should head out. Got an early morning.”

My stomach tightened. “Are you sure? You don’t have to—”

“Thanks so much for inviting me,” he said loud enough for Grant and Donna to hear. “I just need to grab my bag.”

“I know where you left it,” I said, following him inside. Ruby trailed behind us to her pillow, officially tuckered out from people-watching.

He retrieved his things from the kitchen, barely looking at me. “Marc—”

“You’re acting strange,” he whispered. “I’m sorry if I’m contributing to that.”

“You’re not. It’s just that…” I motioned between the two of us.

“It’s okay to take care of your own needs, Lane, and eventually, they’ll have to come to terms with that.” He shook his head. “But I actually get it. It’s hard to talk to my own family about this stuff. Just remember, they don’t know anything, and they never have to.”

“You’re right.” I frowned. “This is so much harder to navigate than I ever imagined. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” His fingers skimmed my shoulder. “I’ll always follow your lead. Your friendship is important to me, and I never want anything to ruin it.”

Thank fuck. I breathed out. “Me neither.”

I followed him back to the porch, where he said his goodbyes to Grant and Donna, who were still sitting on the stoop, waiting for any stragglers. Grant had already broken into the leftover candy, as was evidenced by all the empty wrappers in the bottom of the bowl.

“Marc seems nice,” Donna said after Marcus got in his car and pulled into traffic.

“He’s actually great.” Grant had tucked a piece of chocolate in his cheek, so his voice sounded garbled. I almost—almost—lectured him about his teeth and too much sugar, but I stopped myself. No way I wanted to ruin his mood after such a nice evening. Besides, he was still a kid and deserved to stuff his face on Halloween.