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“Don’t worry,” Dawn told me. “I’ll walk you through it.”
“I’d estimate size seven needles, but she’ll want to check her gauge.” Linda hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “I’m gonna go wet the lettuce.”
Dawn smiled after her before turning her attention back to the blanket pattern. “This doesn’t look too tricky. I’ll go grab some needles for you. Do you have a preference between wood and metal, or do you want me to choose for you?”
“Dawn.” I reached out to touch her arm as she started to walk away. “I know we haven’t exactly stayed close, but if you ever need anything or want to talk, you know I’m here for you, right?”
She grasped my hand and squeezed it, her smile growing a little more genuine. “I appreciate that. I do. But everything’s fine.”
I didn’t believe her, but I wasn’t going to force the issue. If anyone could understand not wanting to show weakness, it was me. “We should go out for drinks sometime and catch up. What do you say?”
“I’d love that. Really.” Her smile slipped a bit. “I’m going to be busy for the next few weeks, but maybe after that?”
“Sure,” I said. “Sounds great.”
* * *
My conversation with Dawn haunted me for the rest of the day. Something was definitely going on with her, but we weren’t close enough friends that I felt entitled to pry. She’d rebuffed my gentle inquiries, which meant she didn’t want to share whatever was troubling her. I had no choice but to respect her boundaries.
Nevertheless, I planned to follow up on my drinks invitation in a few weeks. I was determined to put more effort into cultivating friendships, and Dawn was the perfect candidate for a friendship date. We’d drifted away from each other in part because she’d gotten busy with married life and having kids, but she was recently divorced and her kids were grown now. She could probably use a single friend her own age.
God knew I could. For pity’s sake, it was Friday night and what was I doing? Sitting at home by myself knitting.
Or trying to, anyway. Dawn’s explanation of Linda’s instructions had made sense in the store, but now that I was on my own, I kept getting mixed up and losing my place in the pattern.
“Fucknuts,” I muttered after realizing I’d screwed up yet another yarn over. I backtracked painstakingly, undoing the last few stitches. If nothing else, I’d gotten a lot of practice at fixing my mistakes.
Either I totally sucked at this, or I was too distracted tonight. My money was on the latter. I kept thinking about what Dawn had said about missed opportunities and how I owed it to myself to give things with Donal a chance. Hadn’t Marie said almost the same thing? Something about not closing any doors prematurely.
And yet that was exactly what I’d done. Instead of acting on the attraction between us, I’d frozen up and shut down all possibility of physical intimacy.
Did I really want to make choices based on fear?
Fuck no, I didn’t. I was a badass boss bitch who wasn’t afraid to go for what I wanted.
And what I wanted was Donal.
Trying to ignore my attraction to him hadn’t magically made it go away. If anything it had grown even stronger. Being friends was great and everything, but all this repressed lust was seriously starting to get in the way. I was horny all the time. I couldn’t even think about Donal without getting hot and bothered. My pulse raced whenever I got a new text from him, and just the sound of his voice over the phone made my panties wet.
What would it be like the next time we were in the same room together? My overeager vagina might actually explode.
It was requiring way too much energy to hide my carnal impulses and maintain a platonic facade. Maybe it’d be better to just give in to our urges. Go with the flow, like Dawn had said.
As if fate was sending me a sign, Donal chose that very moment to call. My heart skipped a beat as I set my knitting aside and answered the phone.
“Hey.” The husky rumble of his voice sent the situation between my legs into meltdown, as per usual. “What’re you up to? You working?”
“No, not tonight. I’m knitting, actually. What about you?”
“I was trying to work, but my head’s not cooperating. Figured I’d call you instead.”
“You probably need a night off. You work too much.”
He grunted in wry amusement. “Okay, kettle. Thanks for the advice, but it’s not like you’re any better than me.”
“Excuse you, I just said I’m not working tonight, didn’t I? You know why? Because I understand the importance of work-life balance.”
“Sure,” he scoffed. “So this is how you spend your precious night off? Knitting?”
