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“No thanks.” I shake my head and blow out a breath. “I’m not really hungry anyway.”
He takes a bite and concentrates on his meal. They both do, and for the millionth time in my life, I wish one of them would’ve been born a girl. But no, I’m stuck being the only girl. All three of us were born within hours of one another, and we’ve been pegged with the nickname the Bailey Triplets our whole lives, after our family name. Even if Lance’s and my last name isn’t Bailey since it’s our moms’ maiden name.
Easton pinches my arm like our great-grandma Dori used to do.
“What the hell?” I glare at him.
“You’re too thin. You look better when your face is fuller,” he says.
I turn in the booth and stare at him. It takes him three bites before he looks at Lance and then at me. Easton’s brown hair, with hints of auburn he inherited from his mom, is perfectly styled into a messy look, and it’s almost aggravating how it always looks so perfectly unkempt. He smiles and slides his tongue out to lick the mayo from the corner of his mouth.
With as much frost as I can put in my voice, I say, “Thanks for the advice. Should I trade in my chopped salad for a burger and fries?”
“I would,” he mumbles around his mouthful of food.
“Don’t listen to him.” Lance pushes his plate to the edge of the table, wipes his mouth with his paper napkin, and puts it on the plate. “You’re beautiful as always. I hate to cut this short, but I have to fly to New York this afternoon for a few days.”
“Lance, you didn’t even help me with the roommate ad.”
He straightens his tie down his shirt and slides out of the booth to put on the suit jacket he left hanging on the coat tree. “I’ll write something and email it to you on the plane.”
“Daddy’s plane… must be nice.” Easton pokes fun at the fact that Lance’s dad comes from an uber-wealthy Manhattan family that owns a chain of hotels. “Why don’t you just live in New York? You spend enough time there.”
“Do you have opinions on all of our lives?” I ask him.
He shrugs. “Suggestions. Mere suggestions.”
“Well, I have a few for you. The first is that you’re going to get someone pregnant or catch an STI if you don’t stop with those apps.” I look pointedly at the phone in his pocket.
He drops his sandwich and narrows his eyes at me. “I don’t think you’d like it if I slut-shamed you, so don’t do it to me.”
I look at Lance, who’s busy straightening his messenger bag. How on earth did my best friend, Kenzie, ever become torn between these two? They couldn’t be more opposite. “A little help here?”
Lance glances between the two of us. “Easton has a point. It’s his life, his dick. It wouldn’t be a bad idea for you to get some too.”
I laugh. He’s crazy if he thinks I’d actually mess around with someone.
Lance stands to his full height, gives Easton a fist bump, and me a smile since I’m locked in the booth by Easton. “I’ll shoot you an email.”
He turns to leave, but he runs into a guy who’s just come into Lard Have Mercy.
“Excuse me,” the guy says.
He and Lance do a sidestep dance until they both stop. Lance laughs and the guy glances my way before nodding and heading to the back hallway toward the bathrooms.
After he’s gone, Lance looks at us. “Who’s that?”
I shrug. “How would I know?”
“Whoever he is, he’s huge. Not someone I’d wanna mess with.” Easton pushes his plate away and gulps down his water.
“Here you go.” Mindy puts a Caesar salad in front of me before walking away.
My cousins stare at me.
“This is my life.” I pick up my fork and stab at the lettuce because I don’t have time for them to prepare another one.
“See you two.” Lance waves and leaves, looking like the Wall Street guy he isn’t. But he doesn’t completely fit in in our small town either, because he spends so much time in New York. I have my suspicions as to why he doesn’t just move there, but I’ve never outright asked.
