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“A trip with you is something I’ve always dreamed about, now shut up about it and let’s go.” Placing the scarf around my neck, he winks.
I didn’t know I could love being told to shut up.
Sometimes I feel like running into Sean again was just a fever dream. How did I get so lucky to have a second chance with him? I guess God really set us up for this. I was never really religious growing up, but after everything with Graham I found myself praying every day. I would pray for a second chance. And I think this is it.
◆◆◆
We pull back into my driveway with the couch in the bed of the truck, covered in tarps. The weather is so bipolar—off and on rain all day.
To my complete and utter shock, my dad’s car is in the corner of my driveway.
He’s standing on the steps to the house with a pizza and a liter of soda.
“Is that who I think it is?” Sean stutters as he places the truck in park.
“Yup.”
I was not prepared for the reintroduction of Sean just yet.
As I jump out of the truck, Dad begins apologizing right away. “I’m sorry. I should have called,” he stutters, looking between Sean and me.
“That’s okay, Dad. How long have you been here?”
“I just got here a second ago. I was about to call you when you didn’t answer the door. I saw your car out here. I wasn’t sure if you had taken a walk or something.”
I glance at Sean, and his eyes are fixed on me.
“No, uh, Sean was helping me get a couch.” I point over to him standing awkwardly against his truck. “Dad, you rem-ember Sean.”
I widen my eyes and raise my brows at Dad as to say, be nice, please.
“Hi, sir.” Sean takes a couple of steps forward, reaching his hand out to my dad.
Dad smiles uncomfortably, shaking it. “Nice to see you again,” he says, almost dropping the pizza. “I thought you might want some lunch, Bills. I brought Sprite, your favorite.” He shifts back and forth on his feet, his face cheerful.
I don’t really like soda anymore, but it’s sweet of him to think of me.
“Sean, would you like to join us?” he adds.
My dad’s always been kind like that. He never leaves anyone out.
“That’d be great, Mr. Sloane.”
“Please, call me Wesley.” His eyes dance around, unsure of how to act.
We’ve never really done the ‘guy’ thing before. We’re in uncharted territories even though I’m almost thirty.
Sean smiles at him politely, grabbing the pizza and soda.
We all walk into my toasty living room, and I remember that the couch is still in the truck. There isn’t anywhere to sit.
“Shoot, we need the couch. I don’t know if it’s going to start raining again,” I say, grabbing Sean’s keys that he just set on the counter.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Sean snatches them straight out of my hands. “I’ll get it. Wesley, would you mind helping?” he asks, but then looks back down at me. “Bee, you’re too weak,” he jokes, dangling the keys in front of my face.
He very well knows that I can help because I was the one that loaded it up with him.
“No problem,” Dad says, smiling at us.