Page 58 of From That Moment

“Hey, you’re the one who said it.”

“And I regret it already.”

“Anyway, I don’t know.”

“You’re never going to know if you keep pussyfooting around it.”

“You’re so good with the words, so wise and sage.”

“You came to me, not Cross or even Hazel.”

“Make that Arden.”

“I noticed you didn’t mention Nate.”

“Why would I mention him?” Macon asked, and I laughed.

“He’s not here to defend himself. Don’t be mean.” I sighed.

“I don’t know what to do,” I whispered.

“Yes, you do. Take a chance. You never know when you’re going to get another.”

I frowned, looking at Macon, wondering what to say. “Are you okay?” I asked, the words leaving my mouth before I’d even fully thought them.

Macon froze for a bare instant, but I saw it. The fear, the stress, the worry.

And I didn’t know how to help.

“Everything’s fine. Just waiting to see what happens between you and Paris. Y’all are starting to get paired off. Eventually, Nate will find someone, and then hell will freeze over.”

I wanted to say:What about you?

I didn’t ask though, because he had purposely not mentioned himself, and I wasn’t going to push. Not now.

“So, can I have another beer?” I asked, and Macon’s shoulders lowered a bit, relief covering him.

I wasn’t going to broach the subject, not again, at least not for now.

I had my second beer, as well as a glass of water and dinner before I headed back home, feeling lighter, if a bit more worried about my brother. I was going to keep an eye on him, just like I knew the rest of my siblings would. And we’d be there when he needed us.

I only hoped to hell he reached out.

I pulled into my garage and got out of the car, rolling back my shoulders, knowing that I needed a little bit of courage to do what I was about to do next.

I let out a breath, got to my living room, and sat down on the couch, pulling out my phone.

Me:I know we need to talk. How about we do that over dinner?

I had been thinking about what I needed to say to her, and when I would reach out, and yet I wasn’t very good at this.

The little bubble telling me she was messaging me back appeared almost immediately, and I didn’t know whether to be relieved that she had seen the text, or worried that she was going to say no very quickly.

Paris:Is that your weird way of asking me out?

Me:What’s so weird about it?

I hadn’t been this nervous to ask someone out since I was a teenager, and even then, I’d had so many hormones and inexperience flooding through me that I had jumped headfirst into most things.