Page 31 of Never Your Valentine

“Four. Plus June. Grant’s the oldest, then Felix, a year younger. Then comes June, Blake and Cole. Cole’s the Christmas one. You’ll never see him in town, especially in winter.”

“The Christmas one?”

“I forgot you don’t know about the birthdays. Grant was born on Valentine’s Day.”

“Yeah. It’s super cute.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that.”

“I know. He’s somehow allergic to romance.” I push my cardmaking supplies to one side. “Go on.”

“The second brother, Felix, was born on April Fool’s Day. Then there’s June, the luckiest one.”

“Don’t tell me. Summer solstice?” Her Instagram handle suddenly makes sense. “And Blake?”

“Halloween.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“And the baby on Christmas? You’ve got to be making this up.”

Lia grabs the water that the server drops off and takes a long drink. “Mr. and Mrs. Neverly swear they didn’t plan it, but I bet after the first two, they started to time their sex life, you know? Really commit to the bit.”

I tip my head toward Blake, who’s sitting at the counter now, making the woman next to him laugh. “I’m surprised he’s not all goth and spooky.”

“Oh no. Blake’s all about a good time.”

“Well, Halloween is the sexiest holiday, so that tracks.” I turn back to Lia. “Did you two ever hook up?”

“Eww, no.” Lia looks like she’d rather stab him with a fork. “And neither should you.”

“Noted.”

Lia’s food arrives and she douses her pancakes in syrup. “You’re not dating at all, are you?”

“I’m on the apps,” I say. “What about you?”

“No.”

“Not on the apps, or not dating?”

“At the moment, neither. Our dating pool is more like a puddle, only deep enough to hold one sad frog.”

“Have you tried kissing that frog?”

“I’m not into slime.” Lia’s eyes stray back to Blake, then she checks herself and cuts aggressively into a pancake. “You know what we need? A proper girls’ night. Let me call my friend Sophie.”

“Sophie? I think I met her. Long brown hair? Looks like she was born to pull you out of quicksand and look great doing it?”

“That’s Sophie. How did you meet?”

“In the line for church lady pasties.”

Lia doesn’t even blink at this very Northern Michigan sentence. She’s already got her phone out, texting Sophie, and asking me what my schedule looks like.

“What about June?” I ask. “She seems cool.”