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Then she turns the light off, closes the door behind her, and I’m alone again.
Huffing out a laugh, I make the trek up the creaky stairs and enter the library. Wes—Simone’s husband—renovated this space for her, and it’s become like a second home for the ladies of Four Cups. There are bookcases lining an entire wall, filled with floor-to-ceiling steamy romance. There’s an entire section of regency romance. Must be hundreds of books.
I remember tiptoeing into my mother’s bedroom as a child to take furtive glances at the books she kept on her nightstand. The stepback covers—the images inside the front covers with the models in scandalous poses—were pretty much burned into my mind. I remember the exciting thrill of flipping open the book and seeing those covers, then sneaking minutes to read the books on my own. I even dove into my mother’s closet and hid there with a book a few times.
Blinking away the memory, I greet the ladies in the room. They all answer with hellos and good evenings, then stare at me expectantly.
Simone and Fiona are sharing a sofa on the far wall. Fiona is blowing over a mug of tea while Simone swirls red wine in a glass. Beside them, in an armchair, my sister Candice has a mischievous look in her eyes as she leans over the arm of the chair toward me.
My other sister, Trina, chews her lip and tries to burn a hole through my face with her eyes.
“So,” Simone starts, rolling her wrist in a go on motion, “why were you in Rudy’s car at this hour?”
“Lingering in Rudy’s car, no less,” Candice adds.
“I’m sorry, Lottie?” I ask Simone, ignoring my sister entirely. “You look a lot younger and more redheaded than you did a few hours ago. Didn’t know my mother was here to give me the third degree.”
Simone just cackles. “You’re not getting out of this that easily, Iliana. Go on. Spill.”
I shrug. “There’s nothing to spill. We had dinner.”
Candice squeals. “Excellent. Wonderful. Where? How was it? Did you kiss?” She turns to the group. “Rudy is a good kisser. I could tell even if I wasn’t into it.”
You have no idea. Somehow, I know down to my marrow that the kiss I just shared with Rudy was very, very different than what happened between him and Candice.
The other women nod sagely, even though Trina still steals furtive glances my way. I really wish she hadn’t seen that business card this morning.
Flopping onto the only remaining armchair, I slouch down and end up with a hand over my stomach. Trina’s brows arch, and I quickly move my hand away.
I should just tell them. I could tell them everything—the baby and the other thing. But when I open my mouth, nothing comes out.
Candice takes over and gives us all a rundown of her failed date with Rudy, peppered with Fiona’s recollection of the few times he flirted with her. The consensus is that he’s a stud, and they’re glad we seem to be hitting it off. Personally, I think they’re crazy and possibly delusional since they’ve all paired off with hot men, one after the other. I happen to live in the real world, where that doesn’t happen to people like me.
But my sister’s friends are good people, and for the first time in a long time, I find myself relaxing into my seat—and I realize why I came back here. I’ve been traveling the world for years. I’ve been the wild child, the free spirit. I haven’t had a home since I left my mother’s house—college dorms felt like more of a prison than a home to me—but I knew that coming back here would feel safe.
And that’s why I can’t tell them what’s going on. Not yet.
If I open my mouth and spill my guts, everything will change. I’ll be on the outside again. I’ll have to endure their sympathy, their questions, their pity. I won’t be Lily, the one who travels. I won’t be the one who’s had countless trips and adventures.
I’ll be the one who made a mistake. The one who’s going through a hard time. The one who might not make it to next year.
I like being the person who laughs, who has no roots, who isn’t tied down by the normal rhythms of life. All that will change, of course, but maybe I can cling onto it for a little while longer.
“So?” Fiona leans forward. “You haven’t said a word. Where did you eat?”
“He took me to Edgeville. We had fish and chips.” I shrug. “It was cute. Casual.”
Candice whistles. “Sunset on the boardwalk. Romantic. Did you go for a walk along the beach afterward?”
“What am I, a walking cliché?” I throw my hands out to the sides and when none of them react, I relent. “Yes, we went for a walk on the beach.”
The ladies squeal, and I tamp down the smile threatening to curl my lips.
“Is he a good kisser?” Simone leans forward. “I don’t trust Candice’s opinion on the matter.”
“Hey!” Candice sits up, outraged.
“We need a second opinion,” Fiona says, nodding to Simone. She turns to me. “So? The kiss?”
