“Me, too.” I crawled on the bed next to her. “It sucked.”
“That’s why I came here. I figured I’d sleep over. The apartment is so quiet now without your late-night trips to the kitchen. You walk like you have tambourines hooked to your feet.”
I laughed. “I do not. You didn’t hear me approaching you today.”
“That’s because you were in bad-ass, Albany-the-PI mode. At night, it’s like you turn off that side of your brain.”
“Yet, you’re here.”
“I miss you.”
Frowning, I shot her a sidelong glance. “I just talked to you yesterday.”
“Yeah, but it’s not the same.” She sat up. “We’re both busy. At least when you stayed with me, we could catch up at the end of a day, watch a movie, or eat dinner together.”
“Is that what you want to do tonight?” I slid off the bed. “I can cook dinner?”
Her eyes lit up. “Oh my God, yes! Fried chicken me, please.”
I shuffled into the walk-in closet. “Are you sure?” Quickly, I undressed, tossing my clothes into a hamper. “I thought you were on a diet.”
As she yapped about the lack of taste in her protein shakes and her desire for something homecooked and seasoned well, I grabbed a pair of joggers and slid them on. Then, I put on an oversized T-shirt.
When I emerged from the closet, she was standing at my dresser trying on a pair of my earrings. “Can I have these?”
“No.” I took them from her and dropped them into my jewelry box. “You’re still wearing the earrings you took from me last month.”
She grinned. “We can switch them out.”
“No, girl. These are my favorites. Grandma gave them to me for Christmas.”
“Alright.” She stared at me. “You look different.”
I froze. Bri was like a hawk. She could smell deceit from a mile away, and I was hiding a big secret from her. Several, actually. Shifting my weight from one foot to the other, I asked, “What do you mean?”
She circled me, assessing me in the way only she could. “I don’t know. I can’t put my finger on it. Not yet anyway.”
“I slept with Wes,” I confessed with a heavy sigh. “I was going to tell you, but I didn’t.”
“Shut up. I knew it.”
Folding my arms over my chest, I said, “No, you didn’t.” I walked into the kitchen to start dinner. She was on my heels, asking all kinds of questions.
Where were we?
How were we?
When were we?
I pulled the chicken out of the refrigerator. “Wait a minute, how did you know I even had chicken to fry?” I asked.
“I’ve been here for a while. I looked around. You know I’m nosy.”
For the first time since I got home, I noticed the suitcase near the front door. “Is that your suitcase?”
“I had to pack some clothes,” she said. “Pass me that bag of chips. I’m so hungry. Do you have dip?”
“How long are you staying?” I handed her the family-size bag of Better Made chips and grabbed the tub of French onion dip from the fridge. It was then that I noticed she had on my slippers. “And why are you wearing my Uggs?”
