I Don't Mix Business with Pleasure

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓔𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽𝓮𝓮𝓷

                                     𝓕𝓵𝓸𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓮

My mom finally came out of the house and joined us outside. Everyone showed up to the cookout. I honestly can't tell if she's enjoying the company or putting on a really good act. I don't expect her just to be back to herself like nothing happened- like my dad didn't just die. None of us do. We're scared of leaving her and her having to be all alone. She has always hated being alone. She cried when I was the last to move out, leaving her an empty nester. If she could have kept all of us kids at home, she would have. If needed, she would accept me back with open arms. That's one thing I've always loved about my mother. She always reminds me that if something were to go wrong, she would welcome me back with open arms.

Lars decided to light up the firepit. Him, August, and Landon walked around the yard collecting branches that my dad hadn't had the chance to pick up before he passed away. The sound of the wood crackling drowns out the conversations around me. The sun has now set, and a chilly breeze begins to roll through the backyard. It is November, after all. My teeth chatter together as I watch the embers from the burning wood rise and dance in the air before dissipating.

"Are you cold?" Landon asks me.

I don't have time to answer, as he's already started taking off his blazer and draping it over my shoulders. It still holds his body heat, warming my body. I tug at either side of it, hugging closer to myself. The smell of his cologne wafts off of it. Closing my eyes, I suck in a deep breath through my nose, savoring his scent.

"Thank you, but now you'll be cold," I frown.

"I can handle the cold. Don't you worry," he whispers into my ear, his warm breath fanning down my neck.

"You guys look exhausted, and you've been traveling. Why don't you two go in and get some rest?" my mom says, approaching us.

She holds a glass of wine in her hand, which explains why she's been so social. My mom was never much of a drinker, and this might be my first time seeing her drinking—that I can remember, anyway.

"I am pretty exhausted. My body is so sore from traveling back and forth. I don't want to leave everyone, though," I say, looking at my mom.

"Don't worry about us. You need to relax, honey. The both of you do."

Landon looks at me in agreeance, and we stand up. I hug my mom before heading inside, and Landon follows after me. Something makes me turn my head, and the first thing my eyes land on is Alex. His eyes burn into me with a look of pure hatred. I turn back around, continuing into the house and to my room.

"Why didn't you tell me you were sore?" Landon asks me, shutting the door behind us.

"Aren't you? I could go the rest of my life without ever getting on a plane again, let alone looking at one. Plus, I don't know; there's just too much going on. Why would I?" I giggle, taking off his blazer and hanging it on my coat rack.

"Not really. I'm used to traveling with my dad for events. I used to get sore and have terrible jet lag. I think my mind and body are accustomed to my lifestyle now," he laughs, undoing his cuff links and setting them on my dresser.

Afterward, he undoes the first two buttons on his dress shirt, letting out a sigh of relief. I wonder if it's the same feeling a woman gets when taking off their bra after a long day.

"Well, lucky you." I roll my neck, feeling the soreness in my shoulders.

"Where all are you hurting?" he asks.

"Would you believe me if I told you everywhere?" I ask.

"Yeah. You've been under a lot of stress, too. Why don't you get into something more comfortable, and I can give you a back massage if you'll let me?"