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Okay, that’s not exactly what I mean. I know JD has always wanted this, and I’m genuinely happy for him. I just can’t help but worry, especially since this whole chain of events began only a few months ago. It’s been crazy watching him fall for Tenley and take on the role of Ethan’s foster father/uncle, except for the fact that it’s so on-brand for JD. Of course he’d declare that he’s ready to settle down one day, and a perfect, pre-made family falls into his lap a week later.
I clear my throat, trying to bring myself back. “It’s only weird if you point it out, Reed,” I answer her, unable to resist glancing back to measure her reaction.
She’s still smirking at me. “Making things weirdismy specialty.”
“Then it’s a good thing I like weird.”
What? What am I even saying?
She chuckles lightly. “Is that so?”
I sigh, trying to recover. “Do you want to pick up your car now or later?” We’re sitting at the one traffic light in town, and I need her to decide which way to turn in the next few seconds, even though I don’t want to let her out of my truck just yet.
“I guess we can come back for it after dinner, although Mrs. T might suspect something when she comes home to find my car’s still parked in her driveway,” she replies with a raised eyebrow.
I shrug. “I think my reputation can handle a little bit of gossip if yours can.”
“Hmm. I’m not sure I even have a reputation to damage at this point.”
I frown. I don’t like the way she talks down on herself. The light turns green, and I continue to the nearest town with any decent fast-food options. I change the subject by starting a debate about what to get for dinner, and eventually we settle on Chinese takeout. Loren places the order on an app on her phone, and I fish my wallet out of the center console to hand over to her.
“Here, use one of my credit cards.”
She eyes me suspiciously. “We can split it. I’ll pay, and you can Venmo me the difference.”
“It’s my treat. I am the one who suggested dinner.” She reaches for the wallet hesitantly. “Stop making it weird, Reed. Just let me buy dinner. It’s not like I’m going to expect you to pay me back with a night of hot—” I stop abruptly, realizing that I’m definitely the one making things uncomfortable now.
“No, what were you going to say, Blake?”
I press my lips together. “Nothing.”
“Were you going to ask me to help you with your laundry while it was fresh from the dryer?” she asks, tapping her chin in mock consideration. “You know, some good warm-towel folding? Or perhaps you need someone to proofread one of your legal documents. Do you require my hot copyediting services?”
I snort, trying to ignore the improper thoughts I instantly concoct of Loren wearing glasses and not much else as she sits on my couch with a red pen and a stack of contracts. “As if I’d ever need you to check my grammar.”
She rolls her eyes and smiles as she finally concedes and slips one of the cards out of my wallet. Then she begins rambling about work and having to return from her Christmas break until we stop to pick up our takeout order. On the way home, we trade funny stories about a few of her students, the ones I know from coaching.
I grab our bags, and she follows me inside after I unlock the front door. “Make yourself at home,” I mumble, aware for the first time that, while my house is nice, it isn’t exactlycozy.
“Wow, do you even live here?” she asks, stealing the words directly from my brain.
“I like things tidy,” I return as I unpack our food, a bit embarrassed. “Let me guess, your place is a mess?”
“Maaay-be,” she intones as she joins me at the kitchen island. “It’s definitely well lived-in.”
I think back to when we were kids. I can still see our work next to one another’s on the class bulletin board, mine minimalistic and neat while hers was covered with scribbles and words going in every direction, though we’d still earned the same grade.
I smile as I begin setting out dishes and utensils, thinking that she hasn’t changed much since then. She still seems to be the same witty, quirky, down-to-earth person, and she’s definitely just as cute. It’s actually kind of sad that we weren’t at least friends all this time, now that I consider it. I’ve always liked Loren and thought she was pretty. It’s just that the older we got, the more glaring our differences became, especially regarding our social lives.
Although my subconscious apparently finds her more along the lines of sexy these days, judging from my reaction to her helping JD get Tenley’s attention with some staged flirting a while back.
I shake my head quickly, turning to the fridge. “What do you want to drink?” I already have my hand on a bottle of wine, and she glares at me suspiciously when I hold it up for her approval. “A glass or two won’t hurt. Wearesupposed to be celebrating the fact that my brother has managed to reach the next level in his quest for human perfection, aren’t we? It’s why I always keep a bottle of champagne in the fridge, just in case JD does something else magical on any given day.”
She narrows her eyes. “Fine, I’ll have a glass, but only if you promise to drink enough to spill your guts about this brother complex you keep not-so-subtly hinting at.”
I flinch. “I don’t have a brother complex.” She stares me down, crossing her arms. “I guess that means I’m not as good at being passive-aggressive as I thought.”
Her expression softens, and she chuckles. I sigh, realizing how much I like the sound of her laughter.
