“Someone important?”
“Nobody,” I mutter, shoving the phone deeper into my pocket.
We’re halfway to CC’s when it buzzes again. “For fuck’s sake!” I growl pulling it out to silence it but the text preview catches my eye.
Brother
Booked the Airbnb for next weekend. Can’t wait to meet this girlfriend you keep talking about. Mom’s thrilled too.
They’ll be here next weekend, and I have no fucking clue what to do.
“Oh-kay.” She draws out the word, but doesn’t push.
We order—black coffee for me, peppermint tea for her—and find a spot outside in the sun. The silence between us is surprisingly comfortable. Tara usually fills every space with chatter, so this quiet is rare. Nice.
“You know,” she says finally, “I get family stuff. My family can beprettydramatic sometimes.” She emphasizes the word like it’s an inside joke. “And it can be tough. You don’t have to talk about it, but... I’m here if you want to.”
Maybe it’s the way she says it—no pressure, just an offer. Or maybe it’s the sun making everything feel softer. Either way, I find myself talking.
“It’s my brother, Drake.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “I didn’t know you had a brother.”
Yeah, I think, because he’s a douchebag I’d rather not claim as my own.
“Yep. And he’s telling me how excited he is to come next weekend and meet me and my girlfriend.”
She jerks in surprise, tea sloshing over the side of her cup. “Oh shit! Fuck, oh god.” She scrambles to contain the spill, cheeks flushing.
“It’s fine,” I say, fighting a smile. “Just watering the grass.”
“I’m such a klutz!”
Before I can think better of it, I grab a napkin and reach for her hand. Her skin is soft, warm against my palm as I wipe away the tea. The touch feels more intimate than it should, electricity shooting up my arm. Her fingers twitch in mine, lingering a moment too long before she pulls away.
I clear my throat. She tucks her hair behind her ear.
“I, um, didn’t know you had a girlfriend.” Her voice sounds strange.
“I don’t,” I say. “That’s the problem.”
Her brow furrows. “Oh. Okayyy... Are you going to explain? Or should I guess why you’ve created an imaginary girlfriend called Crystal?”
“Crystal?”
“Yeah.” She waves her free hand expressively. “This is the beautiful, busty woman I picture you with. Great personality, obviously.”
I nearly choke on my coffee, eyes automatically dropping to her impressive rack before I can stop myself. Thankfully, she’s looking away, still rambling about my hypothetical girlfriend.
Don’t go there, Spencer. Don’t even think about going there.
“Anyway,” she continues, “so Crystal’s a smokeshow. Why’d you make her up?”
I sigh, turning my coffee cup in my hands. “It’s... complicated.”
“Try me.”
“You’re going to think it’s stupid.”
