Free Secondary Colors by Aubrey Brenner

at us then places her focus on Holt again. “Haven’t seen you in the store in a while,” she comments, stepping into him and resting her hoof on the lapel of his jacket.
    “I’ve been busy,” he answers, firing an uncomfortable side-glance at me.
    “Why don’t we go somewhere and— catch up ?” She emphasizes ‘catch up’ as if it means something altogether different. I’d rather not wonder what that something is.
    “Um,” Holt notices Aidan’s arm made its way around my shoulders. He’s blissfully unaware of Holt’s murderous eyes on him, skimming the lit menu of heart-clogging goodies overhead, “sure.”
    He snags Kayla’s hand in his and skulks away with her in tow, vanishing into the mass of carnival-goers, balloons, and lights. My stomach ties into a slipknot. I’m certainly happy to see her go—just not with him.
     

     
    We get on the rides, bumper cars, Tilt-A-Whirl, and the spinning cups. Not the brightest idea after we’ve loaded ourselves with greasy food and cheap beer, but we’re acting brave.
    We don’t run into Holt after his departure, which makes me unwillingly wonder where he and Makayla could’ve vanished and what they’re doing there. I do my best not to let it nag at me. Being in a group of people helps.
    When I’m positive Holt left the carnival altogether, “Come with me,” his hair-raising voice rumbles in my ear.
    He culls me from the rest of the herd, weaving through people until we’re out of view. From his stiffened posture, I sense this isn’t going to end well. I yank my wrist from the callous warmth of his grip when I realize he’s pulling me toward the parking lot.
    “What is your problem, jerk?” I rub my wrist. It doesn’t hurt, but I’m anxious, and it’s oddly soothing.
    “Why did you invite me here?” he asks, his voice clipped.
    “Technically, you invited yourself. But I thought you needed a night out with actual people. You’re always spending time with Max or working or—”
    “If I want friends, Evie, I don’t need you to setup playdates with other kids. Especially when I’m forced to watch you—” He stops himself.
    “No, apparently you don’t,” I comment, my tone clearly referring to Makayla. “Where is the town bicycle, anyway? Done with your ride already?”
    “Are you coming home with me or not?” He disregards my remark.
    Home?
    With me?
    Us?
    Together?
    The idea is seductive, comfy clothes and vegging out on the couch with Holt. My will to be upset with him crumbles, but I’d never ditch my friends.
    “I can’t leave.” I point back in the general direction of Tay and Aid.
    “Fine.”
    He turns and walks out of the carnival grounds.
    I hate watching the space between us grow.
    I hate hating it even more.
     

     
    When Aidan drops me off, I’m passed out with my head on his shoulder. I wipe drool from my face with the back of my hand and apologize profusely. He insists it’s nothing, as only a gentlemen would, to save his date from humiliation. He helps me out of his truck, his large hands secured about my waist, and sets me on the ground, assisting me to the porch. Once I wake up more, I’m able to stand without his aid. I riffle through my purse for my keys and uncover them hiding at the bottom corner, buried under knickknacks, crap, and gum wrappers. Excited, I hold them up like a trophy. Like a klutz, I drop them.
    “I got ‘em.” He bends down to pick them up for me. He extends out his hand to place them into my upright palm, his fingers grazing it tenderly.
    “Thanks for a great night, Evie.”
    “Thank you, Aidan.”
    My face tilts up, bringing my lips closer to his. He takes a step toward me and slides his hand around my back, his fingers gripping my jacket. Our bodies press together.
    “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” Holt’s voice approaches from the garden.
    We break apart.
    “As a matter of fact,” Aidan’s lips set in a straight line, “you are.”
    “That’s a damn shame,