Page 159 of Really Truly Yours

Avery’s lips pucker. “I heard she had her hands all over you and was giggling the whole way. Red dress?”

Wait… “You mean Alyssa?”

Tripp shrugs. “You tell us.”

I think back. “Yeah, that was Alyssa Reed. Her husband and I played together in college.”

“Husband?”

Tripp’s lip hooks up. “The two of you looked awfully friendly.”

“Well, yeah, ’cause she’s a friend. We go way back. She and Chase dated the whole way through college.”

Avery sets her cup down and jabs her fists to what’s left of her waist. “Grayson Smith, are you telling the truth? Because Elise or Alyssa or whatever her name is had her hands all over you!”

I scroll through my snapshot memories. Yeah, okay. Fair enough. “So what?”

“So what? How do you think that looked?”

I spread my hands. “I’m sorry. That’s just the way Alyssa is. Always has been. I was best man at their wedding, for crying out loud. Chase called a few weeks ago and told me they’d hit a rough patch in their marriage. Last night she told me about going to counseling and how great it’s been and that they’re expecting in the spring. We were just catching up. Geez, guys. I had to get to the booth for an interview, and she came along because that’s where Chase was.”

Tripp watches me, the usual infrared, seeing-through-me-like-my-head-is-a-crystal-ball look in his eyes not at its usual wattage. He bites into his lip. “What about the kiss?”

“I didn’t kiss Sydnee last night.”

He huffs. “I meant Alyssa, idiot. You two kissed. Saw it with my own eyes.”

“Yeah, she kissed me.” I throw my hands up. “Again, that’s the way she is, and it was only on the cheek.”

“Didn’t look like it.”

“So you had a bad angle. You know me, Tripp.”

The air freezes.

Did last year’s antics alter his trust and good-opinion? I was smack in the middle of my prodigal stage when we were reunited. The emotional impact of our reunion, plus seeing what a standup guy my big brother had become, his love and perfect relationship with Avery, were huge parts of what snapped me out of my idiocy. What softened enough ground to help me finally slow down long enough to listen to what God had been prodding me about all along.

Tripp shoots Avery a squint, and this time, he’s the one messing up his hair, still damp from his usual, early-bird swim. “Oh, man.”

“What?” The word slips out, but I’m not a complete moron. I was distracted by all the Alyssa talk for a minute. Finally my sluggish brain is weaving the clues together. My eyes squeeze. “Sydnee saw, didn’t she?”

Tripp tips his head. “’Fraid so, bro. And I guess that, on top of all the other women…”

“What other…” Even with my lids sinking closed, my vision clears. I’m a bit slow on the uptake. Yeah, the thing with Alyssa was one-hundred percent innocent. All the others who kept parading themselves around me…not so much. Not on their parts. I’m so used to that junk, I guess, that I put it from my mind. And at events of that sort, I have to be nice and polite. Friendly. Not cause a scene by telling someone to bug off.

Sydnee wouldn’t know that, nor could I—or should I—expect her to understand.

I jam the heel of my hand to my forehead and groan from deep down. No stinkin’ wonder she’s gone. And coming on the wake of yesterday’s missteps?

“What do I do now? How do you think she left, anyway? Did she get a ride? Would she fly?”

“Well.” Avery cradles her freshly brewed mug between her palms and smirks up at Tripp. “Does this remind you of anything?”

“Hush, woman.” Tripp snatches her to his side. “It isn’t remotely the same thing.”

Avery snickers, snuggling into him.

I hop my gaze between the both of them. I believe there’s a story here I’ve not heard.

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