Page 93 of She’s Worth the Risk

“Right,” Poppy says, wiping her hands on the blue and red poppy-printed apron wrapped around her waist. “I think that’s everything.”

I smile as I look around the living room at our handiwork. Poppy unties her apron, stuffing it into her bag, and surveys the food table she’s set up. As a chef who owns her own catering company, she’s gone a little overboard, putting out a spread for at least thirty people. There will only be thirteen of us. Fourteen, if you include baby Rose, who isn’t likely to eat a lot of onion tarts.

“Is that enough food?” Poppy asks, and Iris issues a quiet laugh.

“Yes, Poppy. It’s more than enough.”

She exhales, smoothing her hands down her dress. “Sorry,” she says, smiling sheepishly. “I just want it to be as good as my shower.”

Daisy smiles, wrapping an arm around her friend’s shoulders. “I’m glad you loved your shower. It turned out great.”

I watch the women, my heart full. Planning this baby shower is the most fun I’ve had with a group of women in a long time, and I’m surprised to find I’m feeling a little sentimental. I’ve never been to a girlfriend’s baby shower before—let alone thrown one—and I’m honored to be included.

As if sensing my thoughts, Daisy turns to me. “And I’m glad you stuck around for the fall semester,” she adds. Her eyes twinkle, reminding me of the moment in Joe’s when she saw me holding hands with Nick, the night we ran into Marcus. Between sneaking around, classes starting, and taking over at the community arts center, I haven’t had a chance to tell them everything.

Or maybe I’m avoiding it.

Daisy opens her mouth to say more, but before she can get the words out, Gran ambles into the room.

“How are we going in here, ladies?”

“Great.” Daisy grins, turning to Gran. “Thank you so much for letting us do this here, Sylvia.”

“And for letting us bring the guys,” Poppy adds.

Gran waves a hand. “It’s my pleasure. I know your husbands will be no trouble. All gentlemen, the lot of them.” She smiles, looking at her already immaculate outfit. “Right, I think I’ll go change before our guests arrive.”

I watch as Gran shuffles out of the room, resisting the urge to help her up the stairs. Guilt tugs at me as I think of how absent I’ve been this week. I’ve spent nearly every night at Nick’s place, catching the train to Manhattan after closing up the community arts center, praying no one sees me sneak into his apartment in the dark. While I don’t love the secrecy, it’s worth it to be with him. Inside his apartment, it’s only us, like that lovely little bubble over summer, when things felt so innocent. We get to cook together, talk about art, kiss and cuddle and fuck. I get to fall asleep by his side and drink coffee with him in the pre-dawn light before I slip out his front door.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t miss Gran. I worry about her when I’m not here. Every time I walk through her front door, I feel a strange sense of relief. That I’m here to make sure she’s okay, yes, but it’s more than that. Something I can’t put my finger on. As much as I love being safely tucked away from the world in Nick’s apartment, it’s still Nick’s apartment, not my home. And more than ever, I yearn for a sense of home.

For somewhere I truly belong.

“Speaking of gentlemen,” Daisy says as the door swings shut behind Gran, “how are things going with the professor?”

I blow out my breath, debating how much to share. I’ve never been someone who worries about the opinions of others. It’s not who I am. But as I glance around at the group, I realize I do care about these women. About their opinions. And I don’t know what they’d think of me sleeping with Nick, especially now that he’s my professor again.

“It’s, uh…” My mind flashes on that moment in the university archive room, the way Nick broke down and told me he couldn’t stay away. The way he kissed me so hard it left a mark. I lift a hand unconsciously to the delicate bruise where my neck meets my shoulder, closing my eyes. He’s left more since, in places I’ve begged him to. Places only I can see.

“Wait.” Iris leans closer, nudging my hand aside. “Is that… a hickey?”

Heat stains my cheeks, and I cover it again. “No,” I squeak, but it sounds like a lie even to my own ears. I grimace, uncovering the mark. “Is it really obvious?”

“No,” Poppy assures me. “I wouldn’t have noticed.”

Iris’s eyes flash excitedly. “But it’s from him, right?”

My breath rushes out, and I flop back onto the sofa in defeat. “Yes, it’s from him.” It’s a relief to get the words out. To finally tell someone what’s going on.

The women settle in beside me, leaning forward eagerly.

“Well?” Iris presses. “Tell us everything!”

“And be quick,” Daisy adds, checking the time on her phone. “Everyone will be here in five minutes.”

I glance between them all, deciding to just be honest. If they judge me, so be it.

“We’re together,” I confess, keeping one eye on the door in case Gran returns. “We got together the day class ended.”