His voice curls around me like smoke. I feel Tatum shift beside me, and just like that, Grant snaps back into himself—realizing we’re not alone. Realizing we’re in public.
“I…well, I’d better find my colleagues,” he says, already retreating, voice clipped and casual, like he didn’t just touch me like a secret.
Tatum grabs my arm like she’s holding onto a live wire. “O. M. G.”
I whip my head toward her. “What?”
“Isawthe way that man just looked at you!”
I make a beeline for the bar, hoping distance will calm the thrum under my skin. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
Tatum chases me. “You are a damn lie, Eslin Saunders. That man wants you. Like, wants you,bad.”
Just as we reach the bar, she plants both hands on my shoulders and spins me to face her. “Doyouhave a thing for him too? Oh. My. God. Your best friend’s dad. Eslin, does Marlow know? Does—”
I slap my hand over her mouth. “Yes, he has a thing for me. Yes, I maybekind ofhave a thing for him too, but it startedbeforeI knew who he was.Beforehe knew who I was.”
Tatum yanks my hand down. “Wait—whatstarted?You slept with him?”
“No! And would youkeep your voice down?”
I glance over my shoulder, paranoid someone’s eavesdropping. Then I lean in and tell her everything—about Las Vegas, the man I kissed, the secret I buried, and the very real problem named Grant Mills.
“And, no, Marlow absolutely does not know.”
“Girl! How are you even dealing with all that? I’d be going crazy holding all that in!”
Finally, someone close I can actually talk to.
My job demands I carry the weight of everyone else’s problems, tuck away their secrets, their shame, their fears. But no one ever thinks to ask where I’m supposed to put mine. And since I rarely have time to hand over a copay and sit across from someone with a framed degree on the wall, I don’t get much of a release valve.
Max is in Canada, buried in her own cocktail of chaos and bliss. And as happy as I am for her, it’s been harder than I thought—keeping all of this in, swallowing it whole.
Especially with Marlow.
She and I are getting closer every day. She’s becoming a real friend. Someone I trust. Someone I’d never want to hurt. Which makes all of thisimpossible.
So I let my guard down with Tatum. Just a little. Just enough. Because maybe, if I say it out loud—if I share this out loud—she can help me figure out how the hell I stop myself from falling for the one man who’s completely off-limits.
My best friend’s father.
I look up at Tatum, and for some inexplicable reason, a tear threatens to escape. I blink it back with a sharp breath and a forcedsmile. “How am I dealing with it?” I let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Hennessy. Neat, please?” I say to the bartender without looking away.
“Oh shit!” Tatum says, impressed by the drink order.
“I’m dealing with it by journaling, crying, avoiding—”
“Masturbating?” she throws in, soft and deadpan. It makes me laugh despite myself.
“Yes, actually. Lots and lots of that.”
Her expression shifts. Still light, but layered with concern. “But seriously, E... so that’s it? You two are just calling it, friends? And you’re okay with that?”
I take a slow sip of the drink that just arrived, letting the burn chase down the ache in my chest. “Yeah. What else can we do? He’s made this noble, infuriating commitment to Marlow. And I’m not about to betray my job—or her. I have ethics. Standards. I’m not going to set fire to everything just because my body and my heart are on different pages.”
Tatum watches me for a beat, like she’s weighing her words. “I don’t know, girl...maybe you’re overthinking it. Maybe talk to Marlow. See if there’s room for this tonotbe impossible. You never know what life’s lining up for you two down the line.”
“I hope she’s talking about me and you.”
