Make a Wish (Spark House #3)(16)



“Allen was talking about going camping, and I thought it would be a fun trip, but I don’t want to be the seventh wheel with a bunch of couples.” He glances at me for a second before returning his attention to the game. “They’re leaving Thursday night, though. Maybe you could come up for one night.”

“Who all’s going?”

“The usual suspects: Allen and Andrea, Belinda and Ted, and another couple from work.”

“Would that other couple happen to be Marv and the Howler?” That’s my nickname for his girlfriend.

He grins. “No, they can’t come this weekend. Try not to look so disappointed about that.”

“You can’t tell me it’s not awkward when people start freaking out thinking we have a wild animal on our campsite.” It’s happened before. I don’t know if it’s a good thing that those two are oblivious about the racket they make or not. I check my calendar, even though I already know I can’t go. Which is disappointing. Andrea is a mutual friend, and the reason I met Chad in the first place. I enjoy spending time with her and our other friends. “The rehearsal dinner is on Thursday.”

“What time will that go until?”

“Probably pretty late, I’m thinking around nine or ten.” I bite the inside of my lip, not loving the furrow in his brow or the way he purses his lips. This isn’t the first time I haven’t been able to make a last-minute weekend getaway.

I feel bad, but there isn’t much I can do about the way my work schedule is laid out. “Why don’t we plan something for the end of the month? We can organize a camping trip, and if there aren’t any sites available, I can always see if we can set up in the back of Spark House. The last weekend of this month is a sporting event, and Avery is always front and center for those.”

“That could work. I thought you said you’d be getting more weekends off soon. I get working one weekend a month, but three?” His player dies and he tosses the controller on the table. “Seems like you don’t get to have much of a life when all you do is work on the weekend.”

This has become a real sore spot for Chad recently. I get it. Summers are short, and we have a limited supply of warm weather weekends here in Colorado before it turns cold again. He’s big on camping and hanging out with friends and weekend getaways. But summer is our busiest season, especially on the weekends, which means I have less free time, not more. Add the course I’m taking, and it’s been hard to make myself available, particularly for spur-of-the-moment stuff.

“We’re working on freeing up more time, but it’s an event hotel, Chad,” I remind him. “Weekends are when events happen and that’s not going to change. We have that meeting with Mills Hotels coming up too. It has the potential to change a lot. We just need to be patient.”

He blows out a breath, but nods. “Yeah, I get it. But this is supposed to be the time in our lives where we’re making memories, traveling, hanging with friends. We’re not supposed to be responsible for at least another five years. Before you know it, you’ll be thirty and you’ll have missed all the good stuff.”

I don’t know if I agree with that assessment. I’ve been responsible all my life. Losing my parents at twelve does that to a person.

Like when London got married, I bought her out of the apartment so I didn’t have to move or downsize. Although, “bought her out” is probably the wrong phrase. I paid her a hundred dollars because she’s married to a seriously rich man, and there was no way she would take money from me when she could literally fill a pool with hundred-dollar bills and swim in it. I also paid a dollar for our car and the cost of transferring ownership into my name.

“It won’t be like this forever. And I’m not missing out on all of the good stuff.”

“Just three-quarters of it with all your working weekends,” Chad counters.

I know he’s not trying to lay a guilt trip on me, but I already feel bad about not being able to make most of the last-minute stuff, and this doesn’t help. Thankfully his phone pings with a message, distracting him from what had the potential to be an argument. “Allen is on his way to the restaurant. We can meet them there in about twenty. Do you want to walk over or catch an Uber?”

“I’m good to walk if you are.” I push up out of my chair.

“Sounds good. I’m gonna use the bathroom, then we can go.” He disappears down the hall.

I breathe a sigh of relief, happy to avoid dissension. This isn’t the first time my work schedule has thrown a wrench into weekend plans. Or the first time he’s made an offhand comment about moving in with me. I thought he was joking, but now I’m not so sure.

Sometimes I wonder if part of the reason moving in here appeals to him is because it’s a nicer apartment in a better location. The neighborhood has access to more pubs, and all his favorite restaurants are out this way. Plus, Andrea and Allen live a few blocks away, and we spend a lot of time together.

I’ve also never lived with anyone other than my family and my sisters. And we really haven’t been dating that long, so jumping into that kind of change doesn’t seem like the best idea.

My phone rings. I assume it’s Andrea, either telling me they’re running behind or that they’ve arrived early. So I’m surprised when Gavin’s name flashes across the screen instead. “Hello?”

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