“What am I supposed to say?” I toss down a rice krispy treat in exasperation.“Hey, you made me come the other night, and now you’re social distancing. What gives?”
Pen shrugs. “It’s a start.”
I snort. “Believe it or not, I do have some dignity.Grrrr!” I ball my hands into fists. “This is why I shouldn’t let my guard down. No guy is ever worth these… these…”
“Feelings?” Pen supplies.
I am not ready to admit to havingfeelingsfor Lark.
Shit.
Shit.
I have feelings for Lark.
And not just the sexyLet’s-dry-hump-on-my-grandmother’s-couchfeelings.
These are more like thefluttery-achy-this-must-be-organ-failurefeelings.
“Shit.” My voice cracks, and that pisses me off even more. I power through the tightness in my throat to complain. “I don’t have time for this.”
Pen’s already dropped the treat she’s wrapping. She leans in and sweeps me up in her long arms. I huff a tearful laugh because hugging Pen is always such a mismatch of height and limbs and boney angles.
And still, it feels like family.
I’ve had this hug to retreat to for more than a dozen years, and that alone is enough to allow me to take a full breath and stop beating myself up for just a minute.
“Honey, you say you don’t have time for this,” she says with a gentle scold. “I say there’s so little you have that’s just for you, you better make the time while it’s still there to make.”
A part of me wants to pull back and give her the evil eye, but I’m not ready to let go yet.
“Are you trying to tell me I’m getting old?”
She snickers. “No, sweetie. I’m trying to tell you that after Maisy was born, you gave yourself maybe fifteen minutes of fun.” She squeezes me tighter. “That fifteen went down to nothing after Tyler got hurt.”
I untangle from her. “You think this is fun?”
She laughs, and in spite of myself, I laugh too, but my throat tightens again.
“I think it could be if you stop being a Virgo and go talk to the man you can’t take your eyes off of.”
My shoulders sag. “Is it that obvious?” Ignore the fact that I’m not a Virgo. I’m an Aries, but Pen is probably making some kind of insult I don’t understand and don’t want to understand.
“Mmm hmmm,” Pen says on a nod. “But don’t worry. He may be keeping his hands to himself, but his eyes are still all over you.”
I jerk back then. “What? Are you serious?”
Pen raises her right hand. “May all the magic turn against me if I’m lying.”
Holy shit. Pen is not lying. She’s not even embellishing.
“Tell me more.”
She rolls her eyes but does it smiling. “Girl, he tracks your every move. When you’re not in the room, he asks where you are. He even pumped Maisy for information the other night when you went to lie down with a headache.”
My hand flies to my mouth. Behind it, I utter, “I thought—I thought that he’d succeeded in getting down my pants only to figure out I wasn’t worth any more effort.”
My best friend’s glower is a little frightening. “Stella Jane Mouton, you didnotjust say that.”
