Without a Hitch(56)

“What? I haven’t fallen. We’ve literally had sex. Twice. I didn’t even know his name was Lochlan until a few hours ago.”

“Till?”

“Ugh, Hadley! You’re about to say something I don’t like. I can tell by your tone.”

My friend gives a knowing look through my computer screen. “How much have you thought about him since New York?”

Every damn day.

I don’t admit that though. “A few times, I guess.” I can’t make eye contact with any of them.

“Bullshit,” Eli coughs.

“Life’s too short not to have a little fun, Titty.” Freaking Mable.

“For once, I agree with our eavesdropping neighbor.”

“I’m not eavesdropping. I can’t help it if you’re all louder than a bull in heat.”

Does a bull even go into heat? How would Mable know if it was loud? All four of us have the same curious expressions on our faces. We’re probably all silently asking the same questions, but with Mable sometimes it’s best to leave some things unanswered.

“Do it,” Mable chants.

The three girls nod in agreement.

“Listen.” Eli takes control. “I know how important a happily ever after is to you, but you don’t always have to focus on forever. Who knows—maybe finding today’s happy will change your forever.”

“I agree,” Hadley says softly. “You’re always trying to force yourself into five-year plans.

Sometimes I think you forget that you deserve to be happy today too.”

“Do you like him?” Delaney asks as she scribbles on something in front of her.

“Are you making a list?”

Her cheeks flush crimson, and it causes her skin to clash with the bright pink sweater she’s wearing. “Sometimes it helps to see things more clearly in brightly colored notes.” She grins, holding up a large notebook with multicolored paper. “Do you like him?” she asks again.

“I feel something with him.”

“Those are orgasms, Titty. Chase them as long as you can.” Mable laughs, and I expect to see cigarette smoke rise behind the girls.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Mable. Put a sock in it for a minute,” Eli barks. She acts irritated, but we all know she stops by Mable’s apartment every day to see if she needs anything.

Mable’s interruption gives me time to put my scrambled thoughts together. “I’ve never felt quite like this with anyone,” I admit. “I don’t know how to put it into words. There’s a connection. Almost like I can feel when he’s close.”

Delaney gasps. “It’s like every Hallmark movie ever made.”

My eyes burn with unshed tears. “But this is real life, Del. He’s made it so clear that we want different things. Even if he’s perfect.” I choke on a lump in my throat because I fear he really might be perfect. “Marriage? That commitment to me from someone? I need that. I…”

Eli interrupts me. “Honey? I get it. We all have daddy issues, and rightly so.” I really hope my scowl is fierce enough to break her screen. “Dad was a broken man. And your mom had mental health issues that forced her to leave you.”

“No. We had Emory, and…”

“And we essentially grew up orphans, Tilly. There’s no getting around that. Sure, Dad was there physically, but we raised ourselves. I know you’ve viewed this commitment, marriage, as the thing that will force someone to stay. But you know that’s not the truth. I think you’re putting so much stock in marriage because you’re scared. You’re scared of being left behind.”

Tears overflow in a river down my cheeks. I’ve been to therapy just as all my sisters have. I know what Eli is saying. I’ve been told this before, but it’s hard to let go of a security blanket you’ve had for eighteen years.

I don’t want to have this conversation anymore. It hurts too much. “H-He bought me shoes.”

Hadley and Eli stare at each other off-screen before facing me again, and I hold up a sparkly stiletto.

“Holy shit. Those are amazing.”

“He saw me looking at them in New York.”

“What do you know about him?” Delaney asks. She’s adding sticky notes to the bulletin board beside her. She must be in her bedroom while the other two sit together on the couch.

“He’s Colton’s best friend, and he owns the Bryer-Blaine chain of hotels.” Three mouths drop open. I nod. “Yeah, him.”

There’s a flurry of activity, and I know they’re all googling him in the background of our video chat.

“Holy Moses,” Delaney gasps. “Tilly, this is Lochlan Blaine? The one who took you to tremor town in the New York Public Library?”

She presses a button and shares her screen with us. A photo of Lochlan appears. It’s an older paparazzi shot of him on a beach, shirtless and wet.

“Th-That’s him.”

“Hold on. I’m coming up,” Mable yells, and Delaney’s screen shakes because she’s running with her computer under her arm to the family room.

As Delaney settles on the couch between Hadley and Eli, they snap their shared screen shut just as Mable lets herself into our apartment with a key no one gave her and leans over the back of them. She has curlers in her shimmering white hair, bright red lipstick, and a flannel bathrobe, even though it’s nearly eighty degrees in Charlotte today.