Beth

Beth woke up as they were pulling down a familiar road lined with huge live oaks. It was dark and the spotlights illuminating the trees made long shadows stretch across the car. They pulled up to the ancient iron gate and Beth’s heart sank as she took in the words scrolled in the ironwork—Bellemora. They couldn’t be here already, could they?

Beth glanced at the clock. It was just after midnight. They’d arrived as projected. The road trip hadn’t taken nearly as long as she’d hoped. As usual, time with Parker flew by. They’d played every road trip game under the sun. The alphabet game, the license plate game, billboard bingo, would you rather, music trivia, the movie game, cow versus sheep—a game she and Parker had made up when they were kids where players had to flip a coin to see whether they got cows or sheep. Heads were cows, tails sheep. Then they counted the cow or sheep farms they passed. Whoever had the most won. There were always more cow farms.

After they ran out of games to play, Beth turned on her Broadway musical playlist and they sang show tunes. Beth exhausted herself acting out all the parts of Chicago. She must’ve fallen asleep shortly after that because they were now in Georgia.

As the gates creaked open, Beth rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “Parker, why didn’t you wake me up? We were supposed to switch drivers again in North Carolina.”

Parker shrugged. “You looked so comfy.”

“You must be exhausted.”

“Nope,” he said holding up an empty energy drink.

She laughed. “Somebody’s gonna be up all night.”

“You know what that means . . .” he said with a twinkle in his eyes.

Beth snorted. “No way. We cannot toilet paper the live oaks again. My mom will kill us.”

Parker pretended to pout, but Beth could see the corners of his lips hitch into that smirk she loved so much. “Oh well, board games it is.”

“I could do with some Scrabble,” Beth admitted.

“You’re on. I’ll unload the car, you go sort out the rooms.”

“Deal,” Beth replied as they parked under the old carriage porch.

Walking inside her family’s old estate was like being transported back in time. Nostalgia washed over Beth with the weight of the thick Georgia humidity as she walked up to the front desk. The Bellemora estate had been converted into a posh boutique hotel before Beth was born. She’d grown up spending summers vacationing there with her mother’s side of the family. When Beth’s nana was still alive, she’d lived on the property. One whole wing of the massive white plantation style house was reserved for family only, while the other half was upgraded and run as a hotel.

Beth hadn’t been back to Bellemora in years. After Nana passed it was too sad. But Beth did have plenty of good memories there. Collecting sea shells on the beach, getting ice cream at Seaside Sweets, dinners at Tybee Social Club, playing hide-and-go-seek in the halls of Bellemora at night, riding bikes around the golf course, attempting to learn to surf, choreographing dance routines with her sisters and talent shows with Parker.

As Beth thought back to all her good memories of summers past at Bellemora she realized Parker had been a part of all of them.

“Can I help you?” the receptionist asked pulling Beth from her reminiscence.

“Yes, Beth Bennett. I’m here for my sister’s wedding.”

“Yes, of course. Welcome back, Miss Bennett. I’ll be right back with your key.”

“Keys,” Beth corrected. “I’m checking in for Parker Reed as well.”

The receptionist frowned. “I only have one reservation for you, Miss Bennett.”

“Oh.” Weird. Beth’s mother knew Parker was coming. “Well you can put him in any of the rooms in our family’s wing.”

The woman’s pretty face pinched again as she prepared to deliver more bad news. “I’m afraid your family’s wing is full, and with such short notice we have no vacancies on the hotel side.”

No vacancies? Seriously? Beth sighed. “I guess that’s what happens when you plan a wedding in a week.”

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience, Miss Bennett,” the receptionist added with a sympathetic smile.

“It’s okay,” Beth muttered taking the old-fashioned skeleton key.

Back outside, Parker tipped the bellhop who’d loaded their things onto a luggage cart and was just handing the car keys off to a valet.

“So, do you want the good news or the bad news?” Beth asked.

Parkers smile faltered.

Beth knew he’d pick good news. He always did. He’d once told her he couldn’t enjoy the good news if he heard the bad news first.

“Good news,” Parker said.

“We’re bunking together.”

His smile returned ten fold. “What’s the bad news?”

“We’re bunking together.”

Parker waved her off like she was crazy. “I think you need a refresher on good news, bad news scenarios,” he said, dismissing the bellhop and pushing the cart into the lobby himself.

“Really? You’re not mad we have to share a room?” Beth asked as they took the elevator to the second floor.

“Of course not. It’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

“Yeah but . . .”

“But what?”

“I don’t know. We were kids back then. Now we’re used to having our privacy, and what if you snore?”

Parker laughed. “I don’t snore.”

“How would you know?”

“I think we can manage,” Parker said smirking at her as he pushed the cart down the hall to their room.

Beth unlocked the door and led the way inside. She was about to say, ‘If you say so,’ but the lone king sized bed stole the words from her mouth.

Parker

Beth stopped short and Parker almost ran into the back of her with the luggage cart. “What’s wrong?” he asked peering around the garment bags.

“Um, do you want the good news or bad news?” Beth asked again.

Parker pushed his way around the cart and into the room. He was about to make a sarcastic comment about banning Beth from anymore good news, bad news scenarios when he saw what had tripped her up. She was staring at the frilly monstrosity of a bed, and the fact that there was only one of them in the hotel suite.

This was too much. There was no way he could sleep in the same bed as Beth. Beads of sweat began forming on Parker’s brow. What if he was dreaming and pulled her into his arms in the middle of the night? What if he talked in his sleep and professed his undying love for her? Or what if she saw his involuntary morning salute and mistook it for something it wasn’t?

Parker’s mind was spiraling with anxiety when Beth glanced at him.

“Still think we can manage?” she asked.

What could he say? Sure, I’ve fantasized about this since I hit puberty? Parker swallowed his fear. “I can take the floor.”

“Oh my God, Park. I’m not gonna make you sleep on the floor. You’ve already agreed to come to a shotgun wedding for my hellish sister on your last spring break. If anyone’s sleeping on the floor, it’s me.”

“Then I guess no one’s sleeping on the floor,” he replied.

Beth sighed. “I’ll talk to my mom tomorrow. Maybe I can bunk with one of my sisters or something.”

Parker tried to force his smile to look natural and not terrified. “It’s fine, Beth. Friends can share a bed.”

But as Parker unloaded the luggage cart, a knot tightened in his chest. Friends could share a bed. But if he was being honest, Parker hadn’t thought of Beth as just a friend in a very long time.