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15
LYNDI
Layla came through the door the next day with a sigh. “I’m exhausted. Remind me never to go back to work the day after flying home from my honeymoon again.”
I laughed and put down my phone. “Uh, since you likely won’t be taking any other honeymoons, that shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Traveling, in general, then.” She flopped down onto the couch next to me and laid back, putting her long legs over my lap. “Can we skip book club?”
“Uh, no.” I pointed to my shirt, which read,Sorry, can’t. I have book club.
I’d gotten one for all of us last year and each was a little different but all book club related. Layla’s said,What happens at book club, stays at book club,because she was the one who always brought up the controversial topics that got us spilling our guts.
Aria’s said,Book Club: Where we read between the wines,because she rarely had time to read due to her business, but she never missed our monthly meetings because wine time with her girls was too hard to resist.
I insisted that all of our members wear it each meeting, and because they loved me, they usually did. Even Ms. Hattie had one, but hers was simply a mix of beautiful flowers coming out of an open book with the wordsBook Club Babescrawled underneath.
“Fine,” Layla groaned, “but I think my shirt is packed. I’ll have to wear this.”
I gulped, shrugging like it was no problem. It wasn’t, of course. I mean, did it matter if she was missing the uniform so long as she came? No. Not in the grand scheme. But it was a reminder that this week she was moving what was left of her stuff into Zac’s apartment, taking the first step toward leaving me for good when they inevitably got orders, and I hated it.
“Oh, shoot. Before we go, you have to tell me about your trip.” She sat up and tucked her legs under her, eyes wide. “How was meeting Beau’s dad?”
“It was really nice. He’s so sweet. Charming, just like Beau. But also funny in this quick-witted kinda way. I guess also like Beau. And he was—” I stopped short, taking in her stony glare. “What?”
“Lyndi, did you kiss him or something?”
I reared back. “His dad?”
“Girl, no. Beau.”
“Oh. No, why would you even ask that?”
One eye narrowed into a slit. “Because you’re so… I don’t know. I feel like something happened.”
“I guess a lot happened, but we didn’t kiss.”
Not unless an almost-kiss counts.
She bobbed her head slowly. “Okay. So, what’s ‘a lot’?”
“Well, he told me more about himself and why he doesn’t want to date anyone for real. I’m not going to go into details because it’s his business, but let’s just say I don’t foresee any of this fake stuff turning real for him. It’s pretty cut-and-dried.”
“Doesn’t sound cut-and-dried. It sounds messy.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s not messy. It’s real. Which, okay, yeah. Maybe means it’s messy. But either way, you don’t need to worry about me thinking it can be more than it is because I understand why it can’t be, so I’m not letting myself go there.”
“Right, because you’re so good at taking logic and applying it to your emotions.”
“Rude.”
“Accurate, though. Honestly, how many times have you told me you understand why something is happeninglogically,but you can’t get your feelings to catch up? I’m talking about getting offended or taking things personally that you know have nothing to do with you, yet you still obsess over it. Or feeling guilty for something you said even though you knew you couldn’t have known it was an issue when you said it. Stuff like that.”
“What’s your point?”
She shifted on the couch, looking at me with nothing but kindness in her knowing eyes. “Don’t you thinklogicallyknowing why Beau won’t let himself fall for you isn’t going to keep you from falling for him and getting hurt anyway?”
My phone screen lit up on the coffee table, taking my thoughts from her words to the notification bar there. It wasn’t a text from him, like I’d hoped it would be, but instead a notification from TikTok that a BookTok-er had replied to my comment on her video.
