Page 151 of Until I Keep You

“Yeah, are you feeling okay?” Sonia reaches out and grabs my hand.

I yank my hand back. It’s reflex.

I’m so hot. I’m so–they can see it, can’t they? My guilt? The truth? “Sorry, I’m sorry, I just…”

Abigail starts to reach for me but stops. “You’re breathing fast. Do you know that?”

I grin ear to ear. I probably look like a maniac. “Oh, just ran from the subway.”

Abigail frowns. “You weren’t breathing heavy when you got here.”

Wide-eyed, I look at Abigail, then Bridget, then Sonia.

Fuck, Sonia makes me think of Nate, so I look back to Abigail, but Nate’s her brother, so I look to Bridget, but Bridget is Seth’s stepsister, and Seth is Nate’s friend just like Mason is andoh my god I’m going to explode.

“I think I’m in love with both Nate and Mason!” I cry out, then slap my hands over my mouth.

All three of the girls stare at me. A long…painful stare.

Wait, they’re not staring at me…they’re staring at someone behind me.

I follow there gaze to the sweet-faced older woman standing at my shoulder with a teapot. Her apple cheeks are red and shiny, big brown eyes wide.

“Um. Tea?” she asks me.

“P-please.”

I keep my head ducked as she pours the tea.

The table is in complete silence except for the babbling of tea streaming into my glass. Smells like raspberry.

That’s a small consolation to the absolute mortifying ordeal it is that this sweet old woman heard me admit I’m a total whore.

Once she steps away, Abigail is the first to speak. “Okay. Let’s do this one step at a time. You’re in love with Nate.”

I look around me to see if no one else will listen in. “Yes.”

“AndMason?”

“Oh god.” I shut my eyes tight. I want to be anywhere but here. “Just forget I said anything, just–”

Sonia interrupts me. “It’s okay, Laney.”

I blink my eyes open.

Sonia’s amber eyes are soft, full of something like love.

I don’t feel I deserve it, but I’m so grateful for it.

“We know what you feel. Now let’s talk about how you got there.” Sonia looks to Bridget and Abigail. “Does that seem reasonable?”

They both agree. And so do I.

“Just don’t judge me,” I say.

“Never,” Bridget says.

Abigail follows up. “What happens at the table stays at the table.”

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