Page 130 of The Exit Strategy

“No naked dancing, but I’m sure Fen tagged The Haven, which does have an Instagram account, in a photo of us fishing. Definitely shirtless.” Her face heats again. She’s seen those photos. They’re the same ones Hudson added to the Juniper & Her Berries group chat a few summers ago. “What about you? Any topless videos I should be aware of?”

She chokes on her food, and I’m quick to pat her back, even if it’s just an excuse to touch her.

Junie swats me away, and reluctantly, I remove my hand.

“Not topless,” she says stiffly, cutting into her manicotti. “But there’s a sex tape floating around somewhere.”

It’s my turn to choke, for my face to turn a mottled red color—I don’t have to see it to know it’s true. Heat rises to the surface of my skin from my forehead to my toes. Rage. That’s what it is.

She says nothing for ten excruciating seconds.

Then fucking Viper explodes into peals of laughter.

It takes my mind another ten seconds to catch up.

Junie’s fucking with me.

Another ten seconds pass before I can unclench my hands.

Ten more before she stops rocking in her chair.

Ten more still before I can bring myself to breathe.

My foot hooks into the leg of her chair, and I drag her around the edge of the table. The sudden movement snaps her out of her giggle fit when we’re nose to nose.

I use my thumb to wipe the happy tears from her cheek. Even if they’re at my expense, even if they’re happy ones, I hate seeing her cry.

“That was funny to you?”

She swallows and makes a gurgling sound before she nods. “That was too easy,” she says.

“Sweetheart, you can take a piss out of me anytime you want, as long as I’m here to see this smile.” I kiss her softly. Quickly.

Now is not the time to push for more.

So I stand and drag her back into position, where she immediately stuffs her mouth with cheesy manicotti.

She takes two more bites, then she starts blabbing nervously. I listen while she tells me about Stanley’s latest attempt to get Marley to sign off on the rideshare business for golf carts. How Dollie has started referring to us asthekids. How Katie, despite her best efforts, is actually starting to grow on her.

I don’t tell her that I got all this information from the multiple newsletters she signed me up for, or the numerous visits I get from The Haven residents daily because I like watching her talk.

I don’t know that last time I listened to someone talk like this without trying to solve something.

I’m not even doing anything with all the useless information she’s giving me. I’m just…absorbing it.

The shape of her mouth when she says Screen & Steam.

The way she laughs at her own joke halfway through, completely forgetting to give me the punchline.

The specific frequency to which Juniper Mercer is alive is something I’ve been oriented toward my entire life and never allowed myself to enjoy until this moment.

“You’re not eating,” she says, interrupting my inner musings.

“I am.” My tone is too low for the ease of this conversation, but I can’t control it any more than I can control the way my body reacts to her.

“You’re staring. Again.”

“Admiring. Don’t be a pain in the ass. Just…let me.”