“Hey, Kendra.” He eyes my skinny jeans and stiletto heels. “You’re helping us move in that?”
I give him a rueful smile and shake my head.
“Sadly, no,” I answer, and he smirks. Clearly, I’m not sad at all to miss out on sweating up my outfit.
“Iamgoing to help unpack the boxes once you bring them up, and I’ll gladly hold the elevator while you guys unload downstairs.”
He props the door open with a doorstop and pushes in two more boxes that were sitting outside the door.
“That would actually be great. Denise sent me up with the first load, but I passed a tenant on the third floor with a bunch of boxes too.”
“Yeah, weekends are crazy around here,” I agree. “They really ought to have a schedule.”
He pushes in the last two boxes from this load, panting lightly with the effort, then pulls a water bottle from the pocket of his cargo shorts and takes a deep swig.
“We missed you at Mom and Dad’s Halloween party last Saturday. Damon was the saddest Yao Ming I’ve ever seen.”
I giggle.
“I know. He sent me several pictures throughout the night to try to guilt me into coming, but I had to make an appearance at a party for my agency, and I’d already agreed to be on my friend’s float in the parade.”
“Those floats are sick,” he conceded. “Next year?”
I nod, even though the thought of planning things with Damon that far in advance makes me a little lightheaded. Things are going great. More than great, actually. He’s at my place almost every night, and I may or may not have him as a favorite in my phone right under Morty. This thing between us is…significant. And I’m still wrapping my head around whether that’s smart after the disaster with Andre.
Before I can spiral further, Denise comes through the door rolling two clothing racks. Her purse is dangling from her neck in a way that must be cutting off circulation, and I rush over to help her. Behind me, Cory pulls the racks the rest of the way through the door, then gives her a sweaty kiss on the cheek.
“Thanks, babe,” she beams. Those two are so gone for each other.
With his arm still slung around his girlfriend’s shoulder, Cory turns to me.
“So, are you ladies excited about Atlantic City in two weeks?”
I tilt my head in confusion.
“What’s in Atlantic City?”
“I haven’t asked her yet, babe,” Denise mutters through a clenched smile. Cory lifts his hands in apology on his way to the elevator.
“My bad.”
She rolls her eyes and turns to me.
“Sorry about that.”
“No biggie. So, what’s in Atlantic City?” I ask again.
“Camila’s bachelorette party,” she answers. I continue to stare blankly at her.
“Camila? Henry’s paralegal-turned-fiancée?”
“Oh, right!” I reply. I vaguely remember meeting her at the Park family’s July 4th party. “Why would she want me at her bachelorette? I’ve only met her, like, once.”
I reach for the nearest box, pulling off the packing tape in one satisfying rip. She reaches for another box beside me.
“I feel you. I’ve only met her a few times myself. But she’s marrying my boyfriend’s brother, who’s also my best friend’s husband’s brother. That means someday we might be in-laws.”
A kerfuffle at the door draws our attention to Cory standing stock still and wide-eyed. He must’ve heard that last part. Surprisingly, he doesn’t look scared, just…excited. I look to Denise to see if she’s equally unfazed about being caught talking about marriage by a man who’s yet to propose; she’s looking meaningfully into his eyes, a thousand words passing silently between them. Suddenly, I feel like the third wheel.
