Finding Our Course (Finding our Way 3)

“This isn’t for me. This is for us, all of us.”

“No, dear, Nate was right earlier. We all know how Bryce feels about you now. He’s absolutely crazy for you. Your dad may be feeling a different way, but Dave and I are thrilled.”

“Sheila, you may be looking into this a bit more than necessary. We had a rough spot, but it’s done. We’re friends again.”

“Ummhmm, dear, you tell yourself that. He’s going full force. Be prepared.” Sheila winks at me and walks into the living room.

My mom watches with a smile on her face as tears pool in her eyes.

“What the hell? Why all these tears?” I groan. “Whose side are you on?”

“There’s no side here. He knows where I stand, and your father is having a hard time with this, as well as Nate.”

“Hard time with what?” I’m beginning to feel like I’m in an alternate universe.

“You’ll see. Baby, you’ll see.”

I start to demand she answer me, but Bryce walks into the kitchen and my breathing stops. He’s dressed head to toe in black, his hair wet from the shower. The growth on his face is trimmed, and his cologne fills the room. I want to jump in his arms and run at the same time. As soon as he sees me, he makes a beeline and lifts me off the ground.

“Merry Christmas, Devon.” His kiss surprises me, but I sink into him. Our lips touch briefly, allowing just a taste of each other before my brother barges in and slaps him on the back of the head.

“Fucking not here! Told you, she’s still my baby sister. You’re looking for a beat down,” Nate chides and pushes us back from one another.

“Nate!”

“No, Devon, Dad is already having an anxiety attack. Mom sees her unicorns and rainbow shit. I want him to prove himself. That’s all I ask. Make sure he deserves you.”

Bryce starts laughing, gripping Nate’s shoulder. “Not even a week and already anxiety attacks? What happens when—”

“Shut your shithole. My dad will hang you. Just be glad you already have family love. Don’t push it.”

Bryce nods with a glimmer in his eye, and Nate looks at me wearily then leaves us.

“I, for one, am not having anxiety attacks. I look forward to everything involved,” my mom says dreamily behind me. I can tell she has a twinkle in her eyes without even looking at her. When she’s gone, his stare grows heated.

“You look amazing. Absolutely gorgeous.” His fingers trail gently down my cheek.

“Thanks, you too. Going for the Johnny Cash look in all black?” I rasp, trying to ignore the tingling his touch causes.

“Yeah, something like that. I want our pictures to be good.”

“I’ll do a great shot with you and your parents. Promise.”

“Babe, I know you will. But I meant us, you and me.”

I open my mouth to respond, and Sheila bustles into the room in a frenzy. “Bryce, you need to confirm our reservations. Your dad and the rest of the guys are useless.”

“Got it, Mom.”

“Bryce?”

“Mom, I need a minute with my girl. Can you do that?”

I swear I hear a sniffle, but my eyes are locked with his. He captures me with a deep gaze. The room is silent, but a buzz of electricity radiates around us.

“Is this really happening?” I ask.

“Absolutely. Every moment of today, and hopefully everyday forward, will be about us.”