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We all shake hands. There’s some chatter about the reputation of my old high school as the best robotics program in the area. It is. Too bad Sergei purchased a house in the most expensive suburb of Columbus. Goes to show how money isn’t always going to guarantee excellence.
“How do you two know each other?” Arthur asks, looking between me and Ana.
She looks up at him with an enchanting, joyful expression. Ana’s happiness at being here makes my heart squeeze.
Then, I see it: the moment poor Arthur’s infatuation turns his face bright red and secures his membership in the Ana fan club. Shawna notices it too, if her tightly crossed arms and harsh squint are any indication.
“My brother is dating his aunt,” Ana answers.
“Doesn’t that make you, like, cousins?” Shawna asks.
The words are a punch in the throat. “No,” I say stiffly. “We’re not related.”
“So, not cousins, but like cousins-in-law,” Arthur says.
“Like I said, we’re not related,” I snap with more vehemence than is appropriate for an innocent question.
“Not yet,” Ana’s voice is lightly teasing. I think she means Maeve and Sergei have yet to get officially married, but then she adds, “I haven’t proven myself worthy of being a MacElroy, right, Bryce?”
If she slapped me in the face, I would have been less shocked.
“What are you talking about?” I ask gruffly. She can’t possibly think that.
I’ve kept my distance but not because I think she’s unworthy. The opposite is true.
Ana clears her throat and visibly wills her face into a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes or reveal her dimples. She looks so young.
“They invited me to stick around,” she announces as the rest of the club members congregate around us.
Her voice is clear but there’s a jarring edge to it. I let the conversation go for now, knowing it will consume me for the rest of the day.
“That’s great,” I mumble.
Her words ring in my ears. I haven’t proven myself worthy of being a MacElroy, right, Bryce? I need to address her misunderstanding. Unworthy? The word doesn’t belong in the same sentence as her name.
“Ana, I—”
A young man taps my shoulder and asks about one of my professors. By the time he lets me go, Ana is working on dismantling a panel with Arthur.
Her head is bent in concentration while Arthur leans in and takes a deep inhale, a grin splitting his pimply face. Jesus, these geeks are going to lose their mind having Ana around.
Fury flashes behind my eyes. The compulsion to grab his shirt and drag him across the floor is strong.
“Fucking creep,” I growl under my breath. I’m not sure if I’m talking about him or me.
“… coffee?” I catch the tail end of Piper’s question and cling to the normalcy she offers.
The last thing I want to do is spend more time with Ana’s teacher, but I let her lead me out of the room. My eyes prickle at the effort not to check on Ana one more time.
Bryce leaves with Ms. Hall, who had the expression of a heart-eyes emoji throughout his presentation. Who can blame her when he pulls up the sleeves of his Henley shirt to reveal muscled forearms, his biceps popping every time he adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose.
There isn’t a girl in this room who didn’t sigh at the sight of Bryce’s tousled dark-blond hair and crooked grin.
It doesn’t matter that he’s patiently explaining something as boring as the curricular advantages of his department. With his voice modulated and his bright blue eyes searing, the man could run a YouTube channel reading instruction manuals on engineering projects. If he did it with his shirt off, he might break the internet.
That Bryce got involved in anything for me isn’t surprising—it’s shocking. We rarely exchange ten words to each other during the MacElroy Sunday dinners. Still, I like having him there, because he talks about stuff that interests me.
Watching Bryce get nerdy with his grandfather and feisty with his Uncle Matt is, I don’t know, sweet and homey. Also entertaining. I hang on to every word they say when it comes to the auto shop or robotics.
