On instinct, my eyes roam her exposed skin on her arms from the tiny pink T-shirt she has on, needing to make sure no other scars adorn her perfect body.
She sits there, body turned slightly toward me, her legs pulled up under her, her denim jeans stretch tight over her knees.
Her shoulders are relaxed, but there’s a tension in the way she holds herself, like she’s waiting for something to shift.
The way she moves her weight to one hip, then back again, makes me feel like she’s trying to make herself comfortable but can’t quite settle until I say something.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” she asks, and I meet her eyes.
“You’re beautiful.” I say it so simply because it’s just the truth. It’s not what I had planned to say. I think I wanted to ask her more about what happened to her—needing to know why she was driving in the middle of that night, why she was alone, and if she really was running away like I think she was.
“Friends don’t call other friends beautiful,” she says, but it comes out as a whisper. Her blue eyes glisten in the light coming from the lamp behind my couch, the sun no longer out now that it’s past nine.
Three hours with her have passed in what seems like minutes.
Three hours, and it’s not even close to enough.
Three hours, and I don’t think I’ll ever be the same.
“They do when they’re as beautiful as you.”
Her mouth is left slightly ajar, her eyes wide, like she doesn’t believe me.
I’ll tell her every day until she does.
But before I can say anything else, a cry from Evee causes both of us to look over, seeing her rubbing her eyes with her little hands as she wakes up.
Rumi stands up quickly, almost knocking over the plate of cookies between us when she does. “I’ll get her, and then I need to get her home.”
My mind, body, and soul reject the idea as she bends down to grab Evee, and I let my head fall back on the couch.
I knew this friendship with Rumi was dangerous.
Because there’s nothing friendly about how I’m starting to feel about her.
CHAPTER 22
RUMI
Who knewa birthday party for a one-year-old couldcompletelytake over your life?
Evee’s party is set to start in less than an hour, and Ava, Emerson, and I are running around Hey Honey’s like chickens with our heads cut off making sure everything is prepped.
Luke let us close early today, allowing us to use the space for the party.
“Annie should be here any minute with cupcakes and a cake for Evee,” Ava says in between blowing up balloons. “That just leaves this balloon arch and setting up the backdrop for a little photo op.”
Emerson is hanging up streamers around the space, offering to help since she opened this morning and was already here. “How many people are we expecting?” she asks over her tattooed shoulder as she tapes the green streamer to the window.
“Not too many,” Ava answers. “Probably like 30 people and then the kids of those who have them.”
My hands freeze around the plates of snacks I’m preparing. “That many?” I gawk. “I thought it was just us, Luke, Annie, the girls from Love & Lore, Drew, Mia, their husbands, and—”I pause, my blood rushing to my face before I can even say his name. “Jack.”
Ava eyes me, a brow lifting, but I look away before she can say anything.
I haven’t seen Jack since our night at his house last Friday, and my mind has been on very little else since. I invited him to Evee’s party as he walked me to my car and helped me load a cranky, tired Evee into her car seat.
Spending that time with him, getting to know him, opening up to him, was sofreeing. I felt more like myself in those three hours with him than I have in years.
