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“Have you never watched Friends?” Her eyes widen with judgment.
“Who hasn’t?” I smirk.
“The episode where Joey and Rachel trade books. He puts The Shining in the freezer because it scares him,” she says, laughing at the thought. “Then he reads Rachel’s book, Little Women, and when one of them get sick, he gets sad, and Rachel—”
“Offers to put it in the freezer,” I finish for her, now laughing as I remember that episode.
“Yes!” she singsongs. “Best show ever.”
Ten minutes later, I’m grabbing my things and getting ready to leave for work. I leave a little easier knowing Lennon won’t be alone and wallowing. Either she saves that for when I’m not home, or she’s getting better at dealing with her emotions. I’d hate to think she’s hiding her feelings for my sake and hope she’s comfortable enough to express herself how she needs to. I still have her sisters check on her when I’m not here, and Liam and Mason have even stopped by a few times.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be okay,” she reassures me before I walk out the door. “I cry in the shower, get it out of the way for the day, and then I’m usually good until bedtime.”
The sadness is evident on her face, though her tone is light. I give her a look, knowing there’s nothing I can say to change any of this.
“We should watch Friends later,” I simply say. “I’ll order dinner, and we can laugh our asses off all night long.” I figure it’s a safe show for us to watch. Nothing overly sexual or sad. We’ve been watching—or, rather, she’s been insisting—on her trash reality shows, and for the most part, I’ve been allowing it, but enough is enough. A man can only handle so much female drama caused by self-sabotage.
“Sounds like a plan. But I’m still controlling the remote,” she adds with a grin.
I shake my head and chuckle. “What else is new?”
Driving to work, I think about Brandon and our old daily routine. Before Lennon moved in, we’d pass each other in the mornings and then hang out all night. He wouldn’t see her until the weekends, but then as soon as she moved in, she consumed his waking moments anytime she was near. He loved her so damn much, that was obvious.
I only wish Lennon and I could’ve gotten along under different circumstances. I know the majority of why we didn’t was on me, and if I could go back and change things, I would. Dealing with my feelings for her is something I was never able to fully process, but I’ve been able to hide them, shove them down as best as I can, and continue being the friend she needs right now. The guilt burns inside me, knowing how I’ve felt about her all this time, but I try to give myself a break, considering I never acted on them or would. Lennon is my best-kept secret.
At almost noon, I get a text message.
Mason: I was gonna stop over and bring Lennon some lunch. You think she likes Del Taco?
I laugh.
Hunter: Who doesn’t? She likes the beef and bean burritos.
Mason: Good to know. Thanks!
Hunter: Wait, she talked about going to the bookstore today. Let me see if she’s home first.
I press her number before waiting for his response. It rings twice before she picks up.
“Hey,” she whispers.
“Hi. Are you home? Mason wanted to bring you lunch,” I tell her.
“No, I’ll be home in about fifteen, though. Just walking to the registers,” she whispers again.
“Why are you whispering?”
“Because I’m at Barnes and don’t want to be rude when people are shopping and reading,” she says in a condescending tone and then laughs.
“Okay, just asking.” I chuckle, shaking my head. “Did you find your book?”
“Yep! Grabbed a few others too. Some young adult fantasy about wicked kings, a young adult romance that sounds like some kind of mean girl competition, and a self-help book on grieving.”
I wasn’t expecting that last one, but I can’t say I’m surprised either.
“They sound…interesting.”
“I guess we’ll see.” She breathes out. “Tell Mason I’ll be back home shortly. Wait. Do you know what he’s bringing me? Maybe I’ll stay,” she asks with a soft laugh.
“Freeloader,” I tease. “He said Del Taco.”
“Hell yeah. Okay, I’ll be home as soon as I check out.”
After we hang up, I text Mason and give him the update. He sends back a thumbs up emoji, and I relax the rest of the day knowing Lennon is slowly but surely becoming herself again.
I don’t get home until after six and am actually anxious to eat and watch TV like we planned. Today was the Monday-est Tuesday ever, and I’m over it.
Seeing Lennon on the couch with a book in her face makes me smile. I see the other two books she bought on the coffee table, and by the way she’s grinning, I figure she’s not reading the grieving book.
