Returning to Rockport: A Brother's Best Friend Romance

by Kelsey Clayton

  We go straight up the stairs and into his bedroom. He grabs a shirt and throws it on, but it’s too late. I’ve already seen it. My eyes stay fixated on where the tattoo is, even though it’s now covered by fabric.

  “Y-you…you…” I try to speak but the words just won’t come out.

  Colton sits down on the edge of his bed and puts his head in his hands. “Spit it out, McKenna.”

  “Your tattoo…”

  He looks up and his eyes meet mine. “What about it?”

  “It’s the date of our first kiss.” The words sound foreign on my tongue so I say it again. “You got the date you first kissed me tattooed on you.”

  “I did.”

  “W-why?”

  He runs his hand through his hair, messing it up in a sexy, distracting kind of way. “What do you mean, why?”

  None of this makes any sense. The man sitting in front of me is the one who spent the whole summer making me feel like nothing in the world could drag me down – then broke it off like it was the easiest thing in the world. Now, I come to find out he has a very sentimental date permanently inked into his skin.

  “Why, Colton? Why did you get that? We broke up, and that was your choice. I wanted to be with you. I wanted you to tell Maverick, and I wanted us to spend the weekends and holidays together. I even considered transferring to Boston University for you! So why in the world do you have that date tattooed on your body?!”

  He opens and closes his mouth a couple of times before he exhales. “It’s not a big deal.”

  “Not a big deal?! Henna is not a big deal. Pen is not a big deal. Is that either of those?”

  “No.”

  “Then how in the world is it not a big deal?!” When he doesn’t answer, and starts to pace around the room, I grow impatient. “Colton!”

  “I was drunk, okay?” He stops and turns to look at me. “It was shortly after you left and I missed you. I got drunk and it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  I’m not sure if his words make me feel better or worse. Hearing that he missed me enough to get drunk over it makes me realize that maybe he wasn’t as okay as I assumed. That shouldn’t matter though. He knew where I was. If he was that upset, he could have done something about it.

  “So, four years ago, you missed me, got drunk, and somehow wound up at a tattoo parlor?”

  “Pretty much.”

  An involuntary giggle bubbles out of me. I cover my mouth to try and stop it but it’s no use. The next thing I know, I’m tearing up from laughing so hard. Colton looks at me like I’m crazy before he joins me.

  “Y-you got a drunk tattoo about m-me.”

  “I’m glad you find this so funny.”

  I take a few minutes to calm myself down and catch my breath. “I’m sorry. I’m good now.”

  “Mhm.” He smiles.

  “Why didn’t you just get it removed?”

  His eyebrows raise. “Do you know how much that shit hurts?! And you need to go like seven times before it’s gone. I’d rather just leave it.”

  “Okay, understandable.” I lean against his dresser and let it all sink in. My childhood crush has something about me permanently on his body. Then, a thought pops into my mind. “What do you tell people?”

  “Huh?”

  “Like when you’re with women. I’m sure some have asked you about it; what it signifies.”

  He looks as if he’s about to say one thing, but then shakes his head and settles on something else. “I make shit up, like the date I decided on architecture or something.”

  “Probably smart. It wouldn’t be much of a turn on if you told them the truth.”

  One second the mood is light, but in another it changes to something serious. The two of us stare at each other from across the room. The tension is so thick it’s overwhelming. Out of habit, I take my bottom lip between my teeth. He stalks toward me and doesn’t stop until our bodies are only centimeters apart. His fingers lightly touch my face and pull my lip free before he glides his knuckles down the side of my neck.

  “Colton.” I whisper. “We can’t.”

  “Tell me you don’t want me. Look me in the eyes and say it. Say the words and I’ll walk away right now.”

  “You should walk away regardless.”

  “Say it.”

  I try to. I try forcing the lie out of my mouth but I can’t get my brain to cooperate. Instead, I sigh. “Colton.”

  “You can’t say it because you feel it, too.” He places his hands on my hips and rests his forehead against mine. “That pull that was between us all those years ago, it’s still there. You know it as well as I do.”

  Closing my eyes, I try to find some balance – convince myself of all the reasons this is a bad idea. I can’t let myself do this, no matter how bad I may want it.

  “Whether I do or not is irrelevant. I’m getting married in a few months.”

  “I know.” He pauses then groans before stepping away and running his hands over his face. “I know. I just, I miss you, Mac. I miss having you in my life, and this whole avoiding each other thing you want to do is my worst nightmare. I can’t know you’re this close and not be able to be around you. I’ve known you for more than half my life.”

  “I-”

  His finger raises to stop me. “Just let me finish.” I swallow what I was about to say and nod. “I don’t like it, but if it’s what you really want, I’ll do my best. I’ll try not to be here when you have plans with Maverick or Tatum. I’ll make an excuse not to go places where I know you’ll be. Hell, I’ll even figure out a way to not be at your wedding if it comes to that. You deserve to be happy, McKenna, and if that’s what you need – I’ll do it.”

  I don’t know what to say, so I choose to not say anything at all. I think he knows that because instead of expecting me to speak, he places a soft kiss to my forehead, then leaves me alone in his bedroom. Giving myself a minute to breath and compose myself, I fix my hair and head back downstairs.

  Through the glass doors I can see Colton sitting with his guitar on one of the lounge chairs while Roman and Maverick are playing a game of corn hole. Just as I’m trying to see where Ivy and Tatum are, I hear their voices coming from the kitchen. The last thing I want is to be alone with Colton right now, especially not when I have no idea what to say to him. So, I follow the voices of my two closest friends.

  “There you are.” Ivy sounds relieved to see me. “What the hell was that about?”

  “Please tell me you two didn’t just fuck.” Tatum chimes in.

  I ignore them both and head straight for the fridge. Thankfully, the bottle of wine is right in front. I grab it, pop cork out, and bring it straight to my lips. It’s a little dry for my taste, but I don’t care. All I need is for the alcohol to course through my bloodstream so I can process what the hell just happened.

  “They did. They totally just fucked.” Ivy murmurs.

  “Damn it, McKenna. I told you not to go there.” Tatum rubs her temple frustratedly as I pull the bottle away from my mouth.

  “Will you two just shut up for a minute?!” I shout, causing them both to freeze. I focus my attention on Tatum. “Did you know?”

  “Know what?”

  “About his tattoo. Did you know?”

  “What tattoo? The roman numerals on his collar bone?” I nod. “No. He never told me what it’s about. Why?”

  I turn to Ivy. “It stands for April 19th, 2015.”

  Her jaw drops. “That’s the…”

  “The night we first kissed. Yeah, I know.” Neither of them seem to know what to say as I take another swig of wine. “He said he was drunk and basically made it seem like a mistake.”

  “Do you believe him?” Ivy questions.

  I shrug. “I have no reason not to, I guess.”

  “How did I not catch that?” Tatum whispers to herself. “He’s…”

  My eyebrows furrow. “He’s what?”

  “Nothing. It’s nothing. So, what now?”

  “Wel
l, he said that he wants me in his life but that if I really think we should have nothing to do with each other, he’ll do it. He’ll stay away.”

  “That’s good, right? That’s what you want.”

  Ivy snorts beside her. “If you honestly think that’s what she wants, you don’t know McKenna.”

  I rest my elbows on the counter and put my head in my hands. When did everything become so complicated? Why couldn’t I have come back home to find him in a serious relationship with someone else? Ugh, even the thought of that makes me feel sick to my stomach.

  “This is stupid.” I tell them. “Isn’t it? I mean, it’s Colton. He was my friend long before he was something more.”

  Tatum makes a face of uncertainty. “I don’t think he was ever just a friend to you.”

  I look to Ivy but she just smiles sympathetically. “I have to agree with Tate on this one. You were in love with him for years. He may have thought you were just friends, but you always wanted more.”

  They’re not wrong. All little girls have one epic crush. It’s the one person they picture marrying when they’re older and starting a family with. When they think of their dream wedding, it always has that crush standing at the end of the aisle. Colton was that person for me. I was only seven when we met, but I’d never looked at a boy the way I looked at him.

  Still, can I really do this? Can I live in this town and not have him in my life? He’s Maverick’s best friend and my parents have watched him grow up. To avoid each other, it would take a constant effort on both our parts. Is it really worth the hassle when I don’t want to stay away either?

  Not giving myself another second to overthink it, I go into the fridge and grab two beers, then head for the door. It isn’t until I’m about to open it that Tatum tries to stop me.

  “You’re playing with fire.”

  I look back at her and shrug. “I’m not afraid of getting burned.”

  As soon as I step outside, I can hear Colton playing his guitar from across the patio. It’s something he taught himself to do when he was thirteen. He said he needed to occupy his mind and playing music is the perfect outlet for him. I recognize the tune – Happier by Ed Sheeran. My brain starts to dwell on the significance, but I shake myself out of it. Not the time.

  When I step in front of him, he looks up at me. His tropical blue eyes meet mine and I can see the vulnerability in them. It almost breaks my heart, almost. I hand him the beer, making him stop playing to take it, then I sit down on the chair beside his. The sound of both cans popping open fills the silence.

  “Does this mean…”

  I take a sip of my beer before laying back in the chair and pulling my sunglasses back over my eyes. “Friends. Just friends.”

  He doesn’t say anything else, but I don’t miss the way the corners of his mouth raise and how the song he was playing changes to something a lot more upbeat. I can handle this. We’re mature adults. Just because we have a history together doesn’t mean that we can’t have be friends. Nothing has to happen between us. We can stay… Okay, maybe this is dangerous.

  7

  I’ve never understood the concept of mimosas. How does mixing champagne with orange juice make it an acceptable morning drink? If that’s true, wouldn’t screwdrivers be the same? They just switch out the bubbly for vodka. The same thing goes for a Bloody Mary – just because it’s vegetable juice doesn’t mean it goes with your oatmeal.

  My phone vibrates on the table. I glance around to make sure no one else is paying any attention as I grab it and open the new message.

  Colton: Hey Short Stack. What are you up to?

  The beat of my heart intensifies, though I do my best to ignore it.

  McKenna: Day drinking, apparently. What about you?

  “McKenna, what do you think?” My mom asks, causing Tatum and Ivy to turn to me.

  “About what?”

  “The floral arrangements. Weren’t you listening?”

  Shit, no. I really should have been.

  “Oh, uh, I was.”

  Ivy chuckles beside me. “No, you weren’t.”

  “Whose side are you on here?”

  “Yours, babe. Always yours.”

  My brows raise as I take a sip of my mimosa, but my best friend just smiles innocently. Today, I’m going wedding dress shopping. However, according to Tatum, it’s a big deal and requires at least half a day of festivities – which is why I’m currently at brunch with her, Ivy, and my mom. Tatum recommended I invite Parker’s mother as well, but I didn’t see a point. It’s not like she would fly over from England just to see me try on a few dresses.

  Another text comes through, making my phone vibrate in my hand.

  Colton: Working like a normal person on a weekday.

  Then another.

  Colton: Day drinking? Should I be looking up AA meetings in the area? Have you become the next good girl gone bad?

  I can’t help but grin at his antics.

  McKenna: Definitely. Alert the press.

  Colton: I can see the headlines now. “McKenna Taylor – How She Went From Pretty, Pretty, Princess to Drunken, Drunken, Slob.”

  Laughter bubbles out of my mouth before I can stop it, causing everyone to look my way. Mom doesn’t seem too concerned, but Tatum and Ivy share a suspicious look. It’s like they’re communicating without words before Ivy sighs and turns to me.

  “What’s got you all giggly?”

  Can I tell them? Are they capable of understanding? If they knew I was texting Colton, would they really think it’s a good idea? Ivy might not try to stop me, but Tatum would give me the lecture of all lectures. I can practically hear her voice in my head, reminding me of how much he hurt me and how stupid I am for even giving him the time of day. I mean, it’s not like they’re enemies – she likes Colton. She just doesn’t like Colton for me. To be honest, I don’t blame her. She saw the damage he caused that night. Maverick was confused for the seven weeks Tatum refused to be anywhere near him when he was around his best friend. There was no way she could explain why though. If my brother found out the reason why I stayed away from home the past four years, he would kill him with his bare hands, then sit down at the dinner table like nothing happened.

  “Just something Parker said.” I lie, hoping to hell they can’t see through it.

  Tatum and my mom coo, breaking off into their own conversation about how cute we are together. Ivy, however, gives me a knowing look. I smile apologetically and glance over towards Tatum, hoping she gets the point – she does. It’s like an unspoken bond between my best friend and me. She knows that I’ll tell her everything when I figure it out for myself, and I know she’ll have my back no matter what it is.

  THE FOUR OF US finish our meals and alcoholic beverages, then climb into the ridiculously unnecessary limo that Tatum insisted on reserving. I told her repeatedly that we didn’t need one. The boutique is so close to the restaurant that we could walk there and then each take an Uber home if we were too intoxicated to drive, but she didn’t listen. Every time I suggest doing things in a way that’s less than spectacular, she gives me this long speech about how you only plan a wedding once and it should be the best time of your life. Well, I don’t know about her, but the best time of my life would be sitting on the beach and drinking a beer.

  The bridal boutique is filled with extravagant dresses. They have everything from short and cocktail-like, to ones with a poof large enough to fit the whole wedding party underneath it. I was instructed to look up some styles before coming, but then Colton and I had gotten into a debate about whether longboards are better than shortboards and all thoughts of my upcoming nuptials went flying out the window.

  “Welcome to Atelier Cape Ann. Do you have an appointment?”

  The woman standing in front of us is older, maybe mid-sixties. Her gray hair goes down to just above her shoulders. She gives off the same compassionate vibes my mom does. It’s comforting.

  “We do.” Tatum answers. “It’s under McKenna Taylo
r.”

  “Ah, I see. And are you the bride?”

  I don’t miss the way she winces at the question. She’s been waiting for my brother to propose to her for years now. I’m sure he heard an earful when Parker and I got engaged. To be honest, I don’t know what he’s waiting for. They’ve been together for almost eight years. If he doesn’t pop the question soon, she’s going to leave him behind and find someone who’s willing to commit.

  “I’m not. This-” She gestures toward me. “-is McKenna.”

  The woman puts out her fragile hand. “It’s very nice to meet you, Miss Taylor. Congratulations on your engagement.”

  “Thank you, and you can just call me McKenna.”

  “Well, then you can just call me Sophie.” She smiles. “I have a room in the back set up for you and your guests. There’s champagne and water bottles for your enjoyment. Is there any kind of dress style you had in mind?”

  Tatum gives me a look, making me immediately feel guilty for not doing the research I was supposed to. An idea comes to mind and I jump on it.

  “Honestly, I couldn’t really decide. I was hoping my friends could help me out with that. They know what looks best on me.”

  “Correction, I know what looks best on you.” Ivy pipes up. “Miss Limousines and Mimosas over there will have you looking like something out of candy land.”

  “Hey!”

  I put my hand up to stop the argument I know is coming. “Nope, she has a point. Okay, it has to be ivory or white, and can’t fit more than one person underneath it.”

  “Oh, it’s so on.” Tatum challenges.

  Her and Ivy disappear into the many racks of dresses, making playfully snide comments to each other about who knows me more. I chuckle to myself and walk with my mom to our reserved room. It has a platform in the middle that faces a wall full of mirrors, some flat and some angled to provide all different views of the dress at once. There are tiaras and veils showcased on the wall right above an elegant looking dresser. Sitting in a bucket of ice is a bottle of champagne. There are flutes next to it and waters beside them. My mom takes a seat on the couch while I open the champagne and pour us each a glass. We already started drinking; no point in stopping now.