Chapter 4: Mornings, Mishaps, and Memories

It had been a long time since I’d seen Lauren, and I’d managed to make a total fool of myself in front of her. I tossed and turned all night, ceiling fan humming, TikTok unable to distract me from the memory.

I’m Southern by birth, but I’d spent four years up North for college, took the GRE there, worked two years. Now I was back—quitting my job, rebuilding at home, and here for my cousin’s wedding. The wedding was all the family group chat could talk about—venues, dresses, who was bringing which casserole. Classic Southern tradition.

The house was lively lately. Uncle Ben’s family was visiting from a neighboring city. There was always football on TV, someone arguing about the Bulldogs, sweet tea in the fridge, and suitcases and laughter everywhere.

Em had her own place, a career woman always on the go. I’d been home a week, only saw her once. She was killing it at a downtown tech firm, never without her Apple Watch or her calendar.

Today was family dinner, so Em had to show up. Dad sent me to fetch her since she wasn’t answering her phone. His voice left no room for debate; he tossed me the SUV keys and pointed to the door.

Her apartment was just a twenty-minute drive. I scanned in with my registered thumbprint, the foyer dark and heavy with the scent of stale wine. Beer cans, a half-eaten pizza, two bottles of Malbec—the aftermath of a bachelorette party.

I frowned and headed to the master bedroom. The blackout curtains made it pitch dark. I yanked them open, flooding the room with sunlight and dust motes.

The person on the bed instinctively pulled the comforter over her face. I walked closer, annoyed. "Get up."

I pulled off the comforter in one go—only to freeze as Lauren’s face appeared, hair a mess, eyes sleepy but quickly sharpening to full alert.

We stared at each other. My face went cherry red, and I jerked my gaze to the wall. Lauren yanked the blanket back up to her chin, and I stammered an apology, backing out so fast I smacked my shin on the bed frame.

The pain shot up my leg, making me yelp and hug my calf. Lauren sat up, concerned. "Are you okay?" Her voice was hoarse from sleep, her face striking in the morning light. I could barely look at her, scrambled up, and rushed out.

In the hallway, I leaned against the wall, staring at the textured ceiling, heart pounding. Classic Zach—embarrassment king.