“This clan can be a lot to handle.”
“Everyone is so nice, it’s just…”
“I get it.” He smiles reassuringly. “I haven’t been a part of them for long, only about a year. It’s pretty overwhelming at first.”
“Oh, I’m not a part of them, I’m just hanging out with Will.”
“Right.” He smirks down at me and shakes his head. “Megan, I don’t know you, but I’ve spent some time with Will. Trust me. He’s not just hanging out with you.”
I watch Will throw the ball down the lane and scowl and cuss when he only knocks eight pins down. My gaze finds Luke’s again.
“You think?”
“I know. Be careful. Have fun. He’s a good guy.” And with that, he pats my knee and moves back over to his wife.
“What was that all about?” Will asks as he takes the seat Luke vacated.
“Nothing. He was just saying hi. Do you guys really do this regularly?” I ask, trying to distract both of us.
“We try to. It’s not usually this many of us at once, though.”
“It’s fun. And cool that you all like to hang out together.”
“Don’t you like to hang out with your family?” Will asks.
Fuck, why did I bring up family?
“Uh…”
“Hey, Meg, have you heard from Sylvia lately?” Jules asks and takes a swig of her beer.
God, I wish I could drink some beer right now.
“No, not for about a year.” I mumble and immediately begin to twist my fingers in my lap. Please don’t ask about Leo.
Will frowns down at me. “Who’s Sylvia?”
“Her mom,” Jules states matter-of-factly.
“You haven’t talked to your mom in a year?” he asks. Everyone has gone quiet now and are listening to this conversation and I just want to die.
“No. It’s no big deal.”
Jules snorts. Natalie shifts uncomfortably. Matt, the quiet, but no less attractive, one of the bunch, sits back in his chair and watches me thoughtfully.
“More margaritas?” Samantha asks brightly.
“I’ll buy this round.” Caleb and Samantha make a trip to the bar to order the drinks and everyone starts talking about other things, much to my relief.
“This subject isn’t closed,” Will whispers in my ear.
“Yes it is.”
“I love this song!” Jules hops up and pulls Natalie with her, who then pulls me and Brynna up to join them in a spontaneous dance about the lane. Carly Rae Jepson is singing Call Me Maybe. I hate this song.
And yet, I can’t help but love this song.
Sam and Caleb return with a fresh batch of drinks, and Sam joins us girls in our dancing frenzy, weaving and bobbing around us. Stacy grips her belly as she giggles at us and sings along to the fun song.
We are dancing about, being silly girls. I glance over at the guys and they are staring at us, with smirks on their faces.
“You all have the same taste in music as a thirteen-year-old girl,” Nate taunts us.
“Every woman in this country loves this song,” Brynna informs him. “It’s a law, I think. Hey, Matt, isn’t it a law?”
Matt laughs and then purses his lips like he’s thinking really hard about it. “I don’t pay attention to the girly laws,” he finally responds, making Brynna scowl at him.
“Traitor.”
When the song ends, another begins, and I cringe. It’s Lonely Soul by Nash.
As in Leo Nash.
As in, my Leo.
He and I wrote this song together right before he left for LA. Leo had been over at my place, hanging out with me and listening to me bitch about school and this guy that I went out with twice and never called me again after I slept with him.
Hence, the three date rule.
I could tell that he wanted to track the idiot down and pummel him, but he listened and drank beer with me, made me laugh. It wasn’t like I was crying over the asshole, but venting to the only brother I’d ever known helped to put things in perspective. And he gave me the best advice he’d ever given me that night.
“Meg-pie,” he said seriously, “we teach people how to treat us. If you don’t put up with shit, and don’t settle for anything less than respect, that’s what you’ll get. But if you let the douchebags walk all over you and treat you like you’re disposable, then that’s what you’ll always get. You’re too good for that.”
I miss him.
“I love this song!” Sam exclaims and sings along loudly.
“This is a great band,” Jules agrees and winks at me.
I just shrug back at her and sing along in my head.
It really is a great song.
*
“Tell me about Sylvia.”
Will and I are back in his car, heading to his house, and the nerves have kicked in. This is it. Tonight is the night.
I really, really wish I’d had something to drink.
“Sylvia doesn’t matter.”
“She’s your mother.”
“Trust me, genetics doesn’t make someone a mother.”
“Tell me.” He looks over at me, his face unreadable and I sigh.
“Why?”