He sighs and says, “I wanted to see what you would say.”

“What do you mean? If you like her, go ahead and ask her out,” I say, even though my heart is screaming at me to say something else.

“I don’t like Kenna.” He moves closer to me on the couch. I am totally confused by this boy.

“Then why did you have Evan ask me that?” I repeat, turning to face him on the couch. We have been friends since we were in diapers. Why is everything so awkward now?

“I wanted to see if you would be jealous,” he says quietly, taking my hand and entwining our fingers.

“Did you get the reaction you wanted?” I ask, not removing my hand with his.

“No, I thought you liked me. Am I wrong?” He is staring at me now, his crystal blue eyes boring into mine. I couldn’t look away if I tried.

“You are right, I do like you.” I bite my lower lip, unsure of what happens now.

“I like you too,” Trent whispers and turns around to watch television, never letting go of my hand.

Chapter 2 – Present Day 25 years old

The plane dips down and both of my hands clutch the armrests. I have never liked flying but I am extra on edge this trip. I don’t want to go back home but I have no choice. My brother has decided to finally marry his college sweetheart, Lindsey Jacobson.

Don’t get me wrong. I love Lindsey and I couldn’t ask for a better sister-in-law. The problem is that they planned a week-long wedding extravaganza and, like every other wedding of the Bigs and Littles over the years, everyone is involved. Therefore, I’m not only spending a week with Jack and Lindsey and their wedding party, but I’ll also be seeing Bryan, Mackenna, and, from what I heard last night, Trent.

A hand squeezes mine gently. “It’s alright sweetie, just some turbulence,” Ian Fisher, my best friend, says quietly.

“I know. I hate flying,” I say. Ian and I became best friends our senior year of college when we worked together at the rec center. We both lusted over the same guy but unfortunately for me, the object of our mutual affection swung Ian’s way, not mine.

I made Ian take a week off work to come with me, and since he already knows most of the people, it will make things easier. I need him there with me to face everyone again.

“It’s going to be fine Maddy, just relax.” Ian looks at me, squeezes my hand, and then goes back to reading his magazine. We both know he isn’t talking about the flight, and we also both know that things won’t be fine.

The plane lands five minutes early. I am torn with wanting to get off or not, but I know I have to. Ian and I make our way to baggage claim and he stops on the way to get one of the luggage carts.

“Why do we need that?” I ask sharply.

“For our bags. I can’t carry them all,” he snaps back to me.

“How many bags to do you have?” I met him at the gate this morning so both of us had already checked our luggage.

“I don’t know,” he says, tilting his head down to look at me.

“Oh God, you probably have more than me,” I gripe.

“Probably. Now help me pull this through,” Ian says, yanking at the cart corral.

“Here, let me help,” a deep voice says from behind us.

I see the tanned forearm easily guide the cart out of the corral. My eyes roam upward, taking in a firm bicep, strong shoulders, and when my eyes reach the face attached to all of the above, I gasp.

“Hey Madgirl, long time no see,” Gabe Basso says, smirking at me.

“Gabe,” I say stunned. I’m not ready to face him so soon.

“I know, I caught a break at work in order to get here early.” His eyes leave mine, focusing on Ian. “Hi, I’m Gabe,” he says, extending his hand out toward Ian.

Ian looks as dumbfounded as I probably do, but puts his hand out to shake Gabe’s.

“Sorry, Ian this is Gabe Basso. Gabe, this is Ian Fisher.” I motion my finger back and forth between the two of them.

“Nice to meet you,” Ian says.

Gabe nods his head to him. “What baggage claim are you guys at?” he asks.

“Five, you?” Ian takes charge of the conversation, since apparently I have been struck mute. If I am this bad in front of Gabe, how will I make it through everyone else?

Gabe’s eyes shift to me and I see the concern in his eyes. “Six,” he answers. “Is anyone picking you guys up?” he asks, still looking at me. I can’t believe how much he looks like Trent, or more accurately, how much Trent looks like him.

“I rented a car. I didn’t want to rely on anyone for rides the whole week,” I say, divulging more information than necessary.

“Do you mind if I hitch a ride? I was going to catch a cab, but since you guys are here....” he says, his sentence trailing off.

“Sure, no problem,” I say with a shrug.

The three of us walk over to our respective baggage claims. I can see Gabe’s has already started moving, but ours is still quiet. A minute later, Gabe jogs over to us, holding a garment bag in his hand.

Although it’s only June, Gabe is already tan, which I assume has to do with living in Florida instead of the Midwest. I’d heard that Gabe moved down there after college with a couple of buddies, going in together on some real estate deals. I also heard that he’s doing pretty well for himself, especially for only being twenty-eight.

My bag is the first to come off, and I hope that’s a sign that this week won’t be too bad. Ian is waiting next to his cart; he has pulled off two bags already and is going for a third. His matching plaid faux designer-print luggage is a set of five and I assume he brought every piece.

“How much luggage did he bring?” Gabe asks, motioning his head toward Ian.

“I have no idea, but I bet he comes home with even more than he brought,” I say, smiling.

“I guess he’ll be prepared for whatever is going on. From what Doug told me, it’s going to be quite a week.”

“Yeah, I haven’t heard much of anything,” I respond, raising my shoulders and looking down at my feet.

“Knowing Jack, I’m sure he’s planned a fun time.”

“That’s my brother, party planner extraordinaire,” I say, smiling back up at him, noticing how perfect and white his teeth are.

“I’m looking forward to it; it has been a killer summer. All of our houses are booked for the season and we have been working like crazy getting everything ready. It was all I could do to get the time off,” he explains. “How about you, Maddy? What’s the decorating business like?”

“Hard to get into. I do most of my work for free, just to get my foot in the door. I tried to work as an assistant for another decorator, but they just want to boss you around and do their personal errands,” I confess. I have actually thought about switching careers lately, but I don’t want to go back to school.

“Yeah, I have heard that. I had a friend who graduated in fashion design and she had a hard time too.”

“What happened? Did she finally break through?” I cross my fingers, praying his answer is ‘yes’. I could use some hope to continue with my dream.

“Unfortunately, no. She ended up getting married to some investment banker she met and now lives in Connecticut with two kids,” he says, giving me a lopsided smile.

“Oh,” I murmur, deflated. I knew going into design that few people were able to really succeed in it, but since it’s my passion, I went for it anyway.

“But,” he says, nudging his shoulder with mine, “she wasn’t half as talented as you, Madeline Jennings.” He smiles down at me sweetly.

“Thank you,” I grin back, “but you have never seen my work.”

“Yes, I have,” he answers. Before I can question him further, we see Ian coming over with his cart overflowing with luggage.

“About time, Ian.” I turn around, towing my suitcase behind me. Suddenly, I feel my suitcase jerk to a stop behind me.

Gabe is there grabbing it. “You might as well take advantage of the cart,” he says, taking the suitcase from my hands and placing it on the cart. Ian huffs as though it is too much to push, but Gabe and I both chuckle as we walk to the rental car counter.