Suddenly You: secretly dating my best friend’s younger brother.

Fun and excitement bubbled in the house, as soft music played in the background and friends collided in light banter. Sheila gazed at the crowd as she swirled the wine glass, still sparkling from the string lights that illuminated the backyard with a golden glow. “Ava throws these parties like she’s hosting a Netflix pilot,” Sheila muttered under her breath. Ava waved from across the patio, barefoot already, as if she hadn’t spent the entire morning complaining about work deadlines, “Seen him yet?” they mouthed over the music. Sheila frowned. “Seen who?” Before she could comprehend the answer, Sheila caught sight of him. Andrew Walsh. At least that was her assumption. He was no longer that boy with a two-size-too-big hoodie and floppy hair. Instead, there was a muscular man who stood much taller than she expected. Broad-shouldered, dark-haired, Clean-shaven jaw locks. And some unidentifiable confidence that somehow radiated louder than the music. Laughing at whatever the man who sat next to him was saying, while one hand held a drink and the other was stuffed in his suit pocket. Sheila’s stomach began to spiral, and with the moment his gaze shifted towards her, it all made sense. He seemed to notice her quiet stare, and his gaze did not remain glued to the table. Smiling. And in a matter of seconds, Sheila felt herself getting dizzy and lightheaded, and all of it had nothing to do with the wine. Covering her mouth in disbelief, she woke the snap off her lips sardonic murmur, "Sweet Jesus, Andrew?" “Yup. I told you I would not lie. Medical student and back in Los Angeles. Grown man now, somehow infuriatingly delightful. Disgusting, honestly.” Ava said, suddenly shooting up beside her. Sheila blinked. “That’s Andrew?” “Mm-hmm.” Ava handed her a glass like this was any other Tuesday. “Behold the glow-up.” “He looks…” She trailed off, unable to decide whether the word should be hot, dangerous, or off-limits. “Exactly,” Ava said. “Try living with him again. I open the fridge and he’s there, shirtless, making eggs like it’s some sexy indie movie.” Sheila nearly choked on her drink. Ava laughed. “Don’t worry. I’ve been emotionally desensitized by years of babysitting him. You’ll adjust.” But Sheila wasn’t so sure she would. “He’s grown up,” Sheila said quietly, eyes still locked on him across the patio. “He’s... different from the Andrew we used to babysit.” Ava snorted, sipping her drink. “Calm down, Mom. You’ll adjust.” Sheila gave her a sharp look, but it didn’t have much heat. Ava always teased like this, like nothing in the world was serious unless she decided it was. Still, Sheila wasn’t so sure she would adjust. Not with the way Andrew looked at her like she was someone entirely new. Not with the way her heart had started doing this odd, fluttering thing ever since he smiled. “You don’t have to stay the whole night,” Ava said gently, shifting her tone. "It’s been a long day for you, I know. Finish your drink, sneak out, and go get some rest.” Sheila hesitated, swirling the last of the wine in her glass. The rest sounded nice. She set the glass on a nearby table, smoothed the fabric of her dress, and made her way toward the back gate, heels silent. Just a clean and unnoticed exit. No goodbyes. She was close to the exit when she heard it…. “You look so familiar,” a voice said behind her. Low. Calm. And steady. She turned slowly, already guessing who it was. Andrew. Leaning against the door frame like a model coming out of a picture. His drink was half-empty, and his eyes were sharp, deep, and steady. His dark ocean eyes locked onto hers. “For a second,” he added, stepping closer, “I thought you were someone I used to know.” Sheila swallowed. Her voice barely found its way out. “Maybe you did.” Andrew smiled slowly as he took another step forward, casual but deliberate, closing the space between them. The noise of the party faded behind him, muffled through the sliding door. “I wasn’t sure you remembered me,” he said. She blinked. “You were ten the last time we talked properly. You had braces and a Buzz Lightyear watch.” “Hey, that watch was iconic.” She laughed before she could stop herself. The sound caught her off guard, light, unfamiliar. “You’re different,” she said softly. “So are you.” His tone was not flirty exactly. Just present. Like he was chatting with a close buddy. “I’m still figuring you out,” he added. “You used to boss me around, remember?” “You used to stick gum in Ava’s shoes.” “That was retaliation.” “For what?” He smiled wider. “She told my fifth-grade crush I still slept with a nightlight.” She bit her lip, fighting a laugh. “Okay, that was mean.” “It was war.” The banter slipped between them so easily, like picking up an old thread. But the undertone was different now. There was heat in it. Awareness. Sheila shifted her weight, suddenly too conscious of how close they were. “Why are you out here, anyway?” Andrew leaned against the railing. “Too many people. I don’t do well with these social things unless there’s food or a dog.” “You’ve changed.” He shrugged. “A little.” “A lot.” He looked at her, and this time he didn’t smile. “So have you.” Something in his voice made her breath catch. For a moment, neither of them said anything. A breeze lifted the edge of her dress, cool against her legs. The world felt still, like the whole city had taken one long pause. “Leaving already?” he asked, glancing toward the gate. “Yeah, I thought about it.” “You should stay.” “I shouldn’t,” she said. Andrew’s eyes didn’t waver. “Because of Ava?” “Because of a lot of things.” He nodded, slow and thoughtful. “Fair.” But he didn’t move. And neither did she. “Andrew…” she started, then stopped. Her heartbeat was a little too loud in her chest. “Yeah?” She hesitated, then shook her head. “Never mind. It’s late.” He took a step back, giving her space, but not distance. “I’m glad you came. Glad.” She nodded, throat dry. “It was... good seeing you.” “More than good,” he said, quiet but sure. She turned before she could reply, before she could even think about what that meant. Her heels clicked softly as she crossed the stone path again. But even as she walked away, she felt it. The weight of his gaze on her back.