Page 16 of Sugar

I cleared the lump in my throat and pointed behind her. “Your compost pile is on fire.”

Greer spun to see it was a lie before smacking my arm. “It’s not a compost pile.”

“It’s all vegetables.”

“It’s healthy.”

“Healthy and pizza donotbelong in the same sentence.”

The shadow of impending change hovered over us, but we held it back. Swallowed it down. Ignored the weight of it.

We pretended it was just another night as we pulled the last pizza from the oven.

“Food!” Greer called as she grabbed her compost pizza and fruit-infused water—complete with chunks floating in it.

At twenty-two, we were old enough to drink, but we never did during movie nights. Instead, we went wild by stuffing our faces with junk food—well, except for Greer—while we ignored any and all responsibilities.

Something that felt even more crucial right then.

The only exception was Josh. On the nights he joined us, he usually chugged one of the expensive bourbons that was meant to be sipped—all while Greer actively ignored it. I was surprised that Doug never said anything after the fact, but other than some special bottles disappearing from the bar, he let it continue.

“We’re coming. We’re coming.” Doug rounded the side of the house. Last I’d seen, he and Easton had been at the back of the yard near the wooden sauna and hot tub. They must’ve walked by at some point, but I hadn’t noticed.

There.

Progress.

I can continue ignoring him—and avoid making a fool of myself—for just a little longer.

Easy-peasy.

It was not,in fact, easy-peasy. It was the opposite of that.

It was stressy-depressy.

The depressy part was just the overall funk we were trying—and failing—to ignore. The OGs weren’t helping with that. Everything seemed to set them off in a chain reaction of tears and memories. The only plus side was that no one had busted out our embarrassing childhood photos.

Yet.

The stressy was because of my luck. In all the seating configurations that could’ve happened, I’d somehow ended up in a chair next to Easton. Not that I was forced into awkward, stilted conversation. His focus was split between fielding Doug’s small talk and the movie. I kept my gaze solely aimed to the front because I didn’t want to look at himorwhere Greer and Josh were getting handsy on the other side of me. But I was still keenly aware that he was sitting close.

Every so often, he would reach between our chairs, and for a wild moment, I would think he was about to graze my leg. My breath would catch, and my body would tense in anticipation. But he would just grab his water because it was all in my head.

What wasn’t in my head was when he answered a question in that low, gravelly voice. Not only was it appealing, but everything he said was interesting. I wanted to ask him more, but I also didn’t want to be the silly little girl who eavesdropped and inserted herself into a conversation.

I needed to stop being stupid.

I needed to get a hold of myself.

And I needed to get away from him.

The last part ended up being the easiest when Greer bolted up suddenly. “Pause, please.” Her dad hadn’t even grabbed the remote to do as requested before she came over to yank me out of my chair. She continued talking as she started for the door, still dragging me along as Wren followed behind. “We’re changing into our suits so we can watch the rest of the movie in the pool. Refresh your drinks. Grab your snacks. Tip your waitresses.”

Since my arm was still in her tight hold, I hustled to keep her clipped pace as she stormed through the house. I glanced over my shoulder at Wren, but she just shrugged.

Once we were locked in her room, Greer let out a muffled scream. “He’s ruiningeverything.”

Brows lowered, I ventured a guess since only two people were out of place in our usual routine. “Your dad?”

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