But on weekends, we were in a different world.
On the weekends, we were basically best friends. Reluctant ones, but still.
We were the two youngest, and we were all we had during those long drawn out dinners that our parents insisted on having every Sunday after the game. Julian always abandoned us to hang out with my older cousins so Aly and I wound up stuck trying to entertain ourselves. Usually, that meant watching stupid videos together on YouTube till our parents got too drunk to pay attention to us. Once it got to that point in the night, we’d slip off to sneak vodka from the bar or find weed in my parents’ bedroom.
Shit, most of my firsts in life and half of my best memories from childhood involved Aly Stanton. It just so happened that our fight junior year erased any fondness that ever existed between us.
In her eyes at least.
“I don’t know, man, I’ve just known her my whole life,” I said to finally answer Drew’s question, but by the time I said it, he’d already distracted himself by hitting on the hostess. I rolled my eyes out of habit because he was constantly dipping out of conversations to chat up a girl. But today, it honestly relieved me.
I needed time to wrangle my thoughts and figure out what the fuck to do next. I could barely think straight, but there were at least a few things I knew for sure.
Aly was back in my life and I was already hooked on her again.
I needed to be near her. I wanted to find out everything she did, everything she’d seen – everything I’d missed about her since the day she was gone. After last night, I could barely go two seconds without thinking about her.
And since losing her the first time was hard enough, there was no way in hell I was letting it happen again.
5
ALY
Since opening two months ago, I’d come to dread the nonstop chaos that was weekend brunch service.
Our menu included our usual items like French toast, crab cake Benedicts and the Stanton Family lobster roll, but on top of that, there were dollar oysters at the raw bar and the ever-popular Hail Mary, which was basically a Bloody Mary on fancy steroids. It was a product of Evie’s food-driven imagination, which meant it was garnished with not just olives and celery but vodka-poached shrimp, pickled asparagus and an obscenely large lobster claw.
It was gimmicky, yes, but still delicious and every bit a part of our much-needed rebranding of the company. Drawing the trendy Instagram crowd, no matter how annoying some of them could be, played a huge part in spreading the buzz. So I had to remind myself before every brunch service that the madness was worth it.
Of course on this particular Sunday, I was more than happy to drown myself in the crazy. I had my big photo shoot in an hour, but I didn’t even care about running around and getting myself sweaty.
I needed the distraction like I needed air to breathe.
I needed to think about anything other than the crazy shit that happened to me last night. I needed to forget the fact that I’d not just run into Emmett Hoult but almost had sex with him, and more than anything, I needed to forget every dirty, filthy, annoyingly hot thing he did to my half-naked body in that car, because every time I did, I had to squirm or groan or
bite my lip – and anytime I did one of those things, Evie caught me and gave me grief.
“You really need to stop being so delighted about this,” I said tartly when she found me taking a mid-shift breather in the kitchen. “How would you feel if you hooked up with basically your high school bully? Huh?” I challenged. “It’s horrifying, Evie. I keep having these moments where I can’t breathe. I feel like I’m going to actually die of embarrassment.”
“What? Why?” Evie protested. It was hours after I’d told her the story, but there was still excitement dancing in her eyes. “Why be embarrassed about wanting Emmett if he wants you back? Seriously, Aly, what happened between you two last night was hotter than any porn I’ve ever watched in my life, and that’s saying a lot because Mike and I haven’t had sex in three months, and I’ve – ” Evie cut off, swiftly narrowing her eyes at the kitchen guys listening in. “And I’ve been watching a lot of porn, assholes!” she yelled at them, prompting a round of laughter before returning her attention to me. “Honest to God, Aly. This could wind up being an amazing summer of nonstop dirty, sweaty hate-fucking for you. And that could very well be what you need to fall asleep every night. Right? Right?”
I squinted at her like she’d grown a second head.
“Evie. Have we forgotten that my hatred for Emmett is like, real hatred and not foreplay hatred? You do remember that I despise him, right? Like, truly?”
Evie heaved a sigh as she followed me into the office.
“Yeah, but can’t we agree that he was a kid when he tortured you like that and he’s probably grown out of that shit?” she pleaded.
“It’s not that simple.”
“It could be! Half your relationship was comprised of getting each other in trouble with your teachers or your parents, but now that you’re adults, none of that shit exists anymore!”
“Yeah, but what about… the thing he did?” I challenged hotly, though my question lost steam halfway through.
Evie knew about the big drama that exploded between Emmett and me junior year, but we didn’t really discuss the subject much. That night in college when I got drunk off cheap wine from Trader Joe’s and finally spilled the beans about that fight, I had made Evie promise to say nothing after I finished the story.
I just had to get it out.