Steve is great, but he’s no Ethan Davis.
Lola stretches her arms toward the ceiling with a groan.“On that note, I’d better get going.”
“Really?It’s only nine o’clock.”Normally she’s the one sneaking into the kitchen to open the next bottle of wine.
Lola collects the empty containers, stacking them inside each other.“I told David I’d be over later.”
Willow rises to her feet and returns the pillow she was sitting on to my couch.“I should go too.Sebastian was cranky earlier, and I don’t want him to get lonely.”
“Fine.Love me and leave me.”Rick will be home soon, so I can’t be too upset.The girls usually stay the night, but with him taking up the spare room, there isn’t really enough space.
Selfishly, I don’t want to be left alone, but that’s my problem, not theirs.They have things to do, loved ones to see.
I’m a grown-ass woman and can handle my own existential crises by myself.
I push off the couch, my head swimming from too much wine.In hindsight, drinking was probably not the best idea, considering what’s in store tomorrow.
Willow gives my arm a squeeze.“Let us know what the doctor says, won’t you?”
“Sure.”
Lola wraps me up in a brief but tight hug.“If you change your mind about wanting company, call me.”
“And disturb your sleep?Not likely.”
“I promise not to be mean, but only this once.”
I’ll believe it when I see it.
With them gone, the house feels too quiet, and my thoughts are too loud.
Luckily, there’s a light on in my neighbor’s kitchen.What is Ethan up to?
I throw on my chunky cable-knit sweater and head over there.
He answers the door looking delightfully rumpled and deliciously grumpy.
“Girls’ night over already?”he asks, peering over my head toward the house.
“Unfortunately.Hey, do you need Wilma tomorrow morning?”I could ride my bike, but given where I’m headed, I might be too distracted to pedal.
“Wilma?”
“My car.”
“Right.Wilma.”He runs a hand up the back of his hair.“Not that I know of.”
“Sweet.I um… need to go to the grocery store, and going on my bike isn’t very practical.”
I’m not sure why I just lied.Probably because we’re not officially dating.You don’t spring random doctor’s appointments and potentially tragic diagnoses on your casual fling.That’s boyfriend territory.
“Chloe, it’s your car.You can take it any time you want.”
“Yeah, but I said you could borrow it.”
He reaches around to the counter beside the door, where my car key is sitting.“Here.”
I take the key from him and grip it in my fist, not wanting to leave, but hyper-aware of not being invited inside.“Thanks.”
