Chapter 37

Chapter

Thirty-Seven

As the evening draws near,the sun dipping low in the sky, casting long shadows through the wide windows, I light some candles. Their soft glow casts dancing patterns against the walls. Each flicker feels like a whisper of evenings yet to come filled with friends and laughter.

The doorbell rings, and my heart skips a beat. First to arrive is Jasper, his arms laden with a six-pack of craft beer and a wry smile. "Thought this might help wash down whatever gourmet spread you"ve got planned," he chuckles, stepping inside.

Iris is with him. Ever the nurturer, she gives me a tight hug. "Glad you're doing this," she says.

"Me too," I reply.

Eliza arrives next. She's a burst of energy that fills the room instantly. "Where do you want the cupcakes? They may or may not be infused with a love charm," she winks as she waltzes in, placing a tray of her cupcakes on the kitchen counter—a colorful array topped with swirls of buttercream and edible glitter.

Next to arrive are my surfing buddies, Marco and Slayden.

"Thanks for coming, man," I shake hands with Slayden.

Marco hands me a potted snake plant. "Thanks for the invite," he replies.

"You didn't have to—" I start to say, accepting the gift.

Marco cuts me off. "My mom raised me right."

"Mine too. It's from both of us," Slayden adds with a laugh, jumping in on the gift.

My sister greets them eagerly with the cupcake platter. "They're extra special today," she adds with a twinkle in her eye.

Marco reaches out tentatively, but I quickly interject with a laugh, "Watch out for the love potion in those."

Both men freeze, their hands hovering over the cupcakes. Marco gives me a wary look. "You"re kidding, right?"

Eliza bursts into laughter, waving her hand dismissively. "I"m just joking! No magical additives, I promise."

Slayden raises an eyebrow, his adventurous spirit kicking in. "I"m up for a bit of adventure anyway." He grins and grabs a cupcake, biting into it with an exaggerated moan of appreciation. "Love potion or not, these are fantastic."

Marco, still looking skeptical, shakes his head and steps back from the platter. "I think I"ll pass. The last thing I need is a woman in my life."

Eliza rolls her eyes playfully. "Your loss, Marco. More for us, then." She passes the tray around to Iris and Jasper.

Troy and Avery are here with a gift basket in tow before I can even close the door.

"This view never gets old," Avery exclaims, taking a moment to look around as she hands me the basket full of kitchen essentials—a couple of kitchen towels, a cookbook, a knife set, and a small cutting board.

"The place looks nice, man. You've done a lot with it," Troy adds, clapping me on the shoulder with his usual easy-going grin. I wouldn't say I've done a lot with it. All I did was hang some art on the walls, throw a few pillows on the couch, and decorate the mantel, but it does make a difference.

More friends show up, and the house slowly fills with the sounds of conversation and laughter, the kind that stitches the heart back together piece by piece. The doorbell rings again, and I know it's Claire even before I see her. Opening the door, I'm greeted by her smile, tentative but genuine, and something in me settles.

"Come on in," I say, stepping aside to let her in. Our eyes meet, and there"s a moment of silent understanding, a recognition of the steps we"re both taking toward something new, something hopeful.

"I wasn"t sure what to bring," Claire confesses. She steps in, holding a beautifully wrapped gift in her hands. Her eyes dart around, taking in the bustling scene inside my home. "So I brought this," she continues, extending the gift towards me. It's a book, bound elegantly in a soft leather cover. "It's a journal," she adds. "For your new starts, and maybe, your thoughts?"

I take it, feeling the weight of the gesture, the intimacy of a journal. "Thank you," I say, flipping through the empty, crisp pages, imagining the words that might someday fill them. The journal feels like a promise, like she"s not only acknowledging my past but also investing in my future.

The hum of conversation and laughter fills the air as the housewarming party shifts into full swing. I had wanted everything to be laid-back, nothing too formal, so the food is spread out on the kitchen island, inviting everyone to dig in whenever they feel like it. There"s a spread of finger foods—mini sliders, a cheese and charcuterie board, some sushi rolls, and a variety of dips like guacamole and hummus paired with an assortment of chips and fresh veggies. It"s all easy to eat while mingling, and from the looks of it, it"s going down well with the crowd.

Eventually, the party spills outside to the patio. I"ve set up a fire pit closer to the beach, and as the night air cools, the warm glow of the fire becomes more inviting. Guests slowly migrate towards the flickering flames, some roasting marshmallows, others just basking in the warmth.

In the midst of it all, Gigi makes her grand entrance. "Sorry, I"m late. It was ax-throwing night at Mulrooneys. I couldn't let the ladies down," she announces as she brushes a speck of sawdust from her shoulder. "Now, who's up for some charades? Losers have to go skinny dipping!" she laughs.

"Is she joking?" Claire asks with laughter in her eyes.

"Not even a little bit," I reply.

The group quickly rallies around Gigi"s spirited proposal, and soon everyone is gathered around with eager anticipation for the charade game. Gigi, with her usual flair for the dramatic, holds a hat filled with slips of paper, each bearing the name of a movie.

"All right, folks, here"s how it goes. Each team will draw a movie title from this hat, and you"ve got two minutes to act it out. No words, no sounds, just classic charades," Gigi explains, her voice carrying over the crackle of the fire.

Avery and Troy are up first, and the air is filled with laughter as Avery starts styling her hair. She stands dramatically, mimicking Cameron Diaz"s infamous hair gel scene from There"s Something About Mary. Jasper shouts out the answer almost immediately, earning a round of applause and a few groans from the slower responders.

"Show-offs," Marco mutters under his breath, but there"s a grin on his face.

"Was that two seconds?" Iris teases, giving Jasper a playful nudge as the couple takes their bows.

"Alright, next!" Gigi claps her hands, her eyes twinkling with excitement. Jasper and Iris take the stage next.

Jasper pulls a movie title from the hat and gets into position. He strikes a pose, but I have no idea what he's doing, or why Iris is doing the cha-cha dance, or whatever it is she's trying to act out.

It's not until Iris stands thirty feet apart from him and races towards him, Jasper lifting her above his head, that Claire and Eliza yell out, "Dirty Dancing!" in unison.

"That's it!" Iris yells from above Jasper's head.

Claire and I are up next. We draw our slip from the hat, revealing "Spiderman" as our challenge. Claire's eyebrows arch with playful intrigue, a silent "oh, this will be fun."

I start energetically, darting across the soft sand, mimicking Spiderman"s iconic web-slinging. My wrists flick in exaggerated motions, aiming at imaginary skyscrapers looming over our beachfront skyline. Claire bursts into uncontrollable laughter, doubling over as she attempts to join in but mostly ends up pointing at my antics, her joy infectious.

Her laughter spurs me on, and in a spur of inspiration, I dart over to the pergola on the back porch. I grasp the beams, swinging myself up to use it like the monkey bars, pretending it"s the urban jungle of New York City. My movements are more Spiderman now, less frantic, as I try to embody the superhero's fluid, acrobatic maneuvers.

"Planet of the Apes!" Jasper calls out, confusion lacing his tone.

"King Kong!" adds Marco, laughter threading through his guess.

Shaking my head, still hanging from the pergola, I glance down at Claire who's watching me with twinkling eyes full of mischief. She steps up, "Here, let me help," she says, her voice a soft whisper carried on the sea breeze. Before I fully grasp her intent, she"s encouraging me to hang upside down by my knees. Trusting her, I adjust my position, my world literally turning topsy-turvy.

Without a moment's hesitation, Claire steps closer into the intimate space created by my inverted pose. She leans in, and with a breathtaking spontaneity, her lips meet mine. The kiss—a perfect mimicry of that iconic inverted Spiderman kiss—is electric, sparking through me with a startling intensity. For a fleeting heartbeat, the world peels away; it"s just Claire and me in our own suspended reality, the murmur of the waves a distant backdrop.

The kiss stretches, a timeless moment, until Iris"s voice slices through, tinged with playful suspicion. "Are you sure you didn"t put a love potion in those cupcakes?" she asks Eliza. Her words ripple laughter through the crowd.

Flushing, Claire steps back, her voice playful yet shy as she addresses the still-guessing crowd. "Well? What's the movie?"

"Whatever it is, it should be on pay-per-view," Gigi quips, and a wave of laughter crashes over us.

As the laughter subsides and the group begins to disperse back towards the warmth of the fire, and I climb down, I find myself rooted to the spot, Claire"s hand still in mine. Her smile lingers, a soft glow in the moonlight, as she joins the others, pulling gently at my arm to follow. But in my mind, I'm still hanging upside down, suspended in that moment of unexpected intimacy.

I had tried to put Claire in the friend zone, a safe distance to admire her from afar without the risk of getting too involved. But now, as I watch the light play across her features, casting shadows that weave intricate dances on her face, I can"t remember why I ever thought that was a good idea. The reasons seem trivial, obscured by the clarity of what I felt when her lips met mine.

We reach the group, gathered now in a semi-circle around the fire. The game of charades continues with less enthusiasm, the earlier vibrancy replaced by a quieter, contemplative atmosphere—at least on my part. Gigi, oblivious to the subtle shift, launches into her round, mimicking a scene from "Ghostbusters" with dramatic flair. Yet, my laughter is hollow, my responses automatic as my thoughts churn.

Claire is beside me, her presence a constant pull on my awareness. I steal glances at her, each one drawing me deeper into a realization. She's not just a friend, not just a fleeting connection made in the whimsical town of Mystic Hollow. There's something more here, something profound and terrifying in its potential.

The game ends, and as the group starts to break up, Claire turns to me, her eyes searching. "Did you have fun tonight?" she asks, her voice a mix of sincerity and something else, something hopeful.

"Yeah, I did," I reply, my voice steadier than I feel. "Claire, about the kiss..."

She waits, her expression open, vulnerable.

"It wasn"t just part of the game for me," I confess, the words tumbling out in a rush. "I... I"ve been trying to keep things simple, to not complicate them. But tonight, I can"t imagine why I"d ever want to stay away from you."

Claire"s smile deepens, her eyes lighting up with a mix of relief and something new, a spark that mirrors my own. "I"m glad to hear that," she says, "because I feel it too."

We stay in the moment. Time suspended.

Claire talks first. "Thank you…for everything. For helping me with my fears, for…"

"I should be thanking you," I interupt. "You"ve helped me more than you know. Helped me move past grief I didn"t even realize I was still carrying."

Her expression softens, "I"m just glad I could be here for you."

There's a pause, a moment where everything seems to hold its breath.

"I"m falling for you," I confess, my heart hammering in my chest as the words hang between us.

For a heartbeat, there"s silence. Then, slowly, Claire steps closer, her hand reaching up to touch my cheek. And then, we"re kissing, a soft, perfect moment that feels like it could stretch into eternity.

As the kiss deepens, the world around us fades into a blur, our surroundings dissolving into the background as we lose ourselves in the moment. But just as we begin to forget where we are, a sudden commotion snaps us back to reality.

A frantic voice cuts through the calm of the night, urgent and sharp. "Morgan! Claire!" It"s Eliza, her voice laced with panic as she sprints towards us from the direction of the house. Her face is flushed, her eyes wide with alarm.

"What"s wrong?" I ask, pulling away from Claire, a knot of worry forming in my stomach.

"It"s Gigi," Eliza pants, struggling to catch her breath. "She tried to do a cartwheel and I think she broke her ankle. She"s in a lot of pain."

Immediately, the moment between Claire and I is set aside as concern takes over. We quickly follow Eliza back to where a small crowd has gathered around Gigi. She"s sitting on the ground, clutching her ankle, her face pinched in pain.

As we approach, I can see Gigi trying to laugh it off, but the tightness around her eyes betrays her discomfort. "I guess I"m not as nimble as I used to be," she jokes weakly, attempting to lighten the mood.

Avery kneels beside her, examining her ankle with gentle hands. "We should probably get this looked at," she advises, her tone calm. "We need ice and elevation right away, and then a trip to the emergency room."

I nod, turning to the others. "Can someone grab some ice and a towel?" I call out, and Jasper quickly dashes off to fulfill the request.

Gigi, ever the stoic, tries to wave off the fuss. "Oh, come on, it"s just a little twist. I"ll be?—"

"No arguments," Iris cuts her off firmly but kindly. "We"re taking care of this, okay?"

With Jasper returning with ice wrapped in a towel, Iris expertly applies it to Gigi"s ankle, securing it with the towel before helping her to elevate the leg using another guest's beach chair.

Gigi"s initial shock wears off and the pain seems grow. "Can someone fetch me my purse? I have just the thing inside to take the edge off," she says.

I don't doubt it. I've seen the things that Gigi's pulled out of her purse. It never fails to amaze me.

As I catch Claire"s eye across the dimly lit beach, there"s a silent acknowledgment between us. Despite the abrupt interruption from Gigi"s accident, the current of emotions we unleashed tonight remains palpable in the air, tingling like electricity on my skin. The way she looks at me, with a depth of understanding and a flicker of something more—anticipation, perhaps—speaks volumes. It"s clear that what happened tonight wasn"t just a fleeting spark. There"s a promise there, in the way she briefly squeezes my hand before turning to help with Gigi, and in the way our glances keep colliding in the flickering firelight, drawing us back to that moment of connection. The unspoken agreement that what we"ve started is something worth exploring, something that necessitates more than just a late-night conversation by a dying fire. It will have to wait until tomorrow, when the sun brings clarity and the chaos of tonight has settled into the quiet routine of the day. But for now, as the last traces of laughter fade and the cool night wraps around us, the lingering promise of "more" hangs tantalizingly in the air, a beacon for what"s to come.