Page 34 of Honeyed

And even though we should both feel like shit for cursing my dad and going behind everyone’s back to rent the shop, all I can focus on is this intimate connection in a room full of people who’ve known us for a very long time. I’ve always felt like Warren is my person and me his, but this takes us to something so much more. People probably see this exchange, with me leaning into his side and him tucking a lock of hair behind my ear, and wonder what we get up to in the bedroom. They’re probably curious about the dirty things that happen behind closed doors.

The thought, however voyeuristic, turns me on. It could also be the alcohol we’ve consumed.

But before I can walk my fingers up Warren’s thigh, with him not being able to brush it off since we’re in public, we’re interrupted.

Patrick, my middle brother and the closest one to me, walks in and finds our group. “Thanks for taking off before mopping the kitchen floor.”

“You owed me, I stayed late three nights last week for you,” Liam reminds him.

“Because I have a pregnant wife at home and worked all day balancing the books. Man, we really need to get some more bodies in there for orders and service.” Patrick shrugs out of his coat.

I feel Warren looking at me once more, and the silent thoughts we have mirror each other; what will happen when we open a store of our own and need to split our time?

Hope Pizza will always belong to our family, but maybe it’s time to restructure. If no one wants to dedicate every hour of their life to the place, something would have to change. With a baby on the way for Pat and Cass, and our storefront, August going to college … things are changing and we’ll all have to figure it out together.

Tonight, though, I’m not going to worry. “Cass joining us?”

He nods as he rises to go get something at the bar, I presume. “We’re not staying long, but she promised Wilson she’d come with him after their workshop ended.”

Liam’s glass hits the table too hard as he sets it down. “Just the two of them coming?”

Patrick rolls his eyes. “Yes. Gabrielle won’t be joining us.”

“You mean Miss Murphy?” Warren chuckles. “Still weird.”

“You have no idea,” Patrick mutters as he walks off to the bar.

Meanwhile, Liam is studying his glass with a deep frown on his face like he’ll find the meaning of life inside it, and I can tell something is up.

“What is going—”

Before I can get it out, Cass walks in with Gabrielle and Wilson, the two other people who work at the Hope Crest Playhouse with her in tow, and waves to us. All three make their way over to where we’re sitting, and Liam is now bouncing his knee like he’s about to yell fire in this crowded room.

“Hi, gorgeous.” Patrick stands to plant a wet kiss on his wife’s lips and palm her belly like he is one with the baby.

“Ah, Alana! I didn’t realize you’d be here.” Cass comes over to give me a big hug.

I greet Wilson as well, who gives Warren shit about not getting me a proper, fat diamond, and then turns to Gabrielle. While she and Cass have become good friends, I haven’t spent much time with her since she moved back. She was never my teacher, but with Liam’s reaction, my interest is immediately piqued.

“Gabrielle, good to see you out. I feel like the three of us need to go get dinner at some point.” I point to Cass and myself.

Her eyes flit around nervously, and I’m surprised that this woman who has some years on me looks completely intimidated by my suggestion.

“Uh … yeah, we should.”

She’s answering me, but her eyes are glued to Liam. I watch their interaction like it’s a tennis match, my eyes pinging back and forth, and see my brother down his glass of whiskey in one large gulp.

“I’m going to head out.” He abruptly stands and brushes past all of us.

“Liam!” Patrick guffaws, and Cass shakes her head with a disappointed smile.

“Let him go, it’s fine.” Gabrielle collapses on the couch in the spot Liam just vacated, and I’m burning to know what that was all about.

“Come on, let’s get you a drink.” Cass pulls her up by the hand and then motions me to follow them.

While I want to ask a million questions, I barely know Gabrielle yet and am dealing with a huge drama of my own, so I keep them in my brain. I do, however, ask her a bunch of questions about herself and learn that, like Cass, she kind of grew up around here but moved away before going to school in town. Then, about ten years ago, she taught at the high school for a year before leaving again.

“My grandmother recently passed and left me her house, so I came back and realized I didn’t want to leave this time. There is something magical about this town.” She sighs, stirring the cocktail straw in her vodka soda.

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