Page 8 of Fallen Flame

She grabbed one of the extra pillows and smacked me in the shoulder with it. “You are terrible.”

“I am hilarious.”

“You are impossible.”

“I’ve been told that before.”

She laughed again, the sound filling the room. I liked Ever.

We’d become friends working together at the Dairy Bar, but somewhere between long closing shifts, complaining about customers who couldn’t decide between chocolate and vanilla, and cleaning melted ice cream off counters at midnight, she’d turned into one of my favorite people.

Seeing her this happy made me happy.

Jude looked at her the way every woman deserved to be looked at—like she was the only person in the room.

The laughter faded, leaving a comfortable silence between us.

Ever stared at the ceiling. “So...”

I already knew that tone. “So?”

“I’m kind of surprised.”

“About?”

She turned her head toward me again.

“I figured Oliver would be standing guard outside your door.”

The smile slipped off my face. I sighed so heavily it probably qualified as cardio.

Ever immediately pushed herself upright. “Lark?”

“Hmm?”

“What happened?”

“Nothing.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Nothing doesn’t come with a sigh like that.”

I scrunched my nose.

She pointed at me. “Spill, Lark.”

I groaned. “Do I have to?”

“Absolutely.”

I flopped onto my back and stared at the ceiling. “It was so bad.”

Ever folded her legs beneath her. “What was?”

“My attempt at flirting.”

She blinked. “...Go on.”

I covered my face with both hands. “I embarrassed myself.”