Page 51 of Yard Sale

“Are we alone?” I murmured as Aravind shut the door behind us.

“I think so, but I’m pretty sure I just saw someone run through a doorway.”

I braced myself for what was to come. “They’re going to be outside. Let’s go out there and make quick introductions, then I can grab my stuff.”

His hand slipped into mine, fingers loose but steady. “Alright. Lead the way.”

He probably would have been better at it than I was, considering I didn’t know this place at all and the lights were all still so dim I couldn’t see anything, but I managed to find my way back through the kitchen and to the sliding door that led outside.

I was able to catch a glimpse of the fire, and I figured the shadows around it were my family. They were all quiet, so I knew they were staring.

“Can you keep me from falling on my face?” I murmured.

Aravind adjusted his stance so I could rest my fingers on his shoulder. “I’ve got you, honey.”

My chest went warm as he made his way down the deck stairs and across the grass. I was barefoot, and it was wet with dew and cool, and I dug my toes into it as we came to a stop a few feet away from the concrete stamp where everyone was sitting.

Someone cleared their throat, but no one said anything.

“Everyone, this is my…ah. My boyfriend.” I tried not to trip over that word, and I could feel the collective tension rising. “Aravind.”

“What kind of name is that?” Peter demanded.

“You don’t have to answer that,” I muttered.

He shifted closer to me. “It’s fine, sweetness. And it’s an Indian name. I get it’s hard for certain types of people to pronounce.”

The silence told me they were all waiting for him to give them an alternative. When he didn’t, my mouth stretched into a smile.

“Anyway, this is my family,” I told him. “I’m actually not sure who’s out here, but probably my mom and dad, my brother Peter, who asked about your name. His wife, Sarah—you met her at the door. And my brother Thierry and his wife, Anne.”

“So, ah…Ara—” That was Peter again.

“Aravind,” he corrected, his tone sharp.

“So how long have you two been a thing?”

Aravind slid a hand down my arm and pressed his palm to mine. “A while. We met at the beginning of the season. I was hired on as a sports reporter to cover this year’s PPHL season.”

Peter laughed. “Really? You’re a sports reporter?”

I slid my arm around him, ready to defend him, but he just snorted. “I am.”

“So you know about hockey?”

“Well, considering my dad was an NHL player when I was a kid and now coaches the Glaciers, yeah. I’d say I know about hockey.” He leaned harder against me. “I didn’t know about para hockey until this year.”

“Weird sport,” Peter muttered.

“I’m sorry. You want to repeat that louder?” Aravind demanded. “And explain what you mean by weird? In detail so I understand you properly?”

“Never mind.”

Fuck, I wanted to kiss him, but I knew tonight was only going to get worse if we stayed. Peter was definitely drinking, and I didn’t want there to be a fight. Though punching someone might have made me feel better.

Especially if it was my brother.

But I also didn’t want to spend the night in the tiny island jail for assault.