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“Oh, yes, he does,” Sage interjects.
“You both are delusional. Whenever I’m around Harlem, the man looks like my presence annoys him.”
Sage snorts. “Harlem is like that with everyone. That’s just how his face is.”
Juniper giggles. “Yeah, like resting bitch face. Only in his case, it’s resting dick face.”
I make a face at Juniper’s analogy.
“Maybe that wasn’t the best description,” she adds.
“Ya think?” Sage rolls her eyes. “And don’t let Harlem hear you say that.”
“The point is,” I say, getting us back on track. “Is that there is nothing there. And you two have to promise not to peep a word of anything I said here today.” I look back and forth between Juniper and Sage.
“Pretty sure she’s talking to you.” Juniper points to Sage.
Sage looks at Juniper on offense. “Me?”
“Yes, you heifer. You’re the one who blabs your mouth to Salem about everything, and then he and the guys sit around drinking beer and scratching their balls while blabbing about everyone else’s business.”
“That was one time!” Sage hisses. “When are you going to let it go?”
Juniper throws her arms in the air. “Let it go! You told Salem about the poison ivy incident!”
I bit my lip to keep from smiling. I remember the poison ivy incident. I was the one who made her a special cream for her rash. Last summer, Juniper went camping with this guy she liked. They had only been dating a few weeks, but she was enamored with the guy and agreed to the weekend getaway in the wilderness. The guy was a total outdoorsy type. Juniper is not. Juniper and camping do not mix. She got poison ivy in places one would never want poison ivy.
Sage thought she was telling Salem in confidence. It turns out Salem has a big mouth too.
“I said I was sorry a million times,” Sage grumbles. “I’ve learned my lesson. My lips are sealed.” Sage looks at me. “Promise.”
“Yeah, me too,” Juniper cuts in. “Your crush on Harlem is safe with me.”
“Thanks, guys.”
“Fifty bucks says they are boning by the end of the month,” I hear Juniper say under her breath as she makes her way to the counter with an arm full of products.
“Six weeks,” Sage counters. “This one.” She hooks a thumb over her shoulder in my direction. “Is so far in denial, she will no doubt make the poor guy work overtime to get her attention.”
Juniper props her hip against the edge of the counter. “I don’t know. Harlem doesn’t peg me for the kind of guy who waits around for his woman to get her head out of her ass.” She shakes her head. “No, he’s definitely a take-what-he-wants kind of man.”
“You two are ridiculous,” I say as I approach the register. I don’t make it far when I hear Sage gasp. “Sukie, oh my god, what happened to your foot? It’s bleeding.”
I look down to see my foot has bled through the bandage I wrapped around it this morning. It’s been two days already. I was hoping the cut would have started to heal by now.
“Crap,” I hiss.
Setting the box in my hands down, I limp my way to the bathroom in the back of the store, with Sage and Juniper trailing behind. “It’s nothing, guys,” I say, pulling the first aid kit out from under the sink. I close the lid on the toilet and sit. “I stepped on some broken glass the other night. No biggie.” I lift my foot and look at the blood-soaked bandage.
Juniper sucks in a sharp breath. “No big deal? Sukie, that cut is deep. You need stitches.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Absolutely not.” Sage kicks into momma bear mode. “Come on. We are taking you to the doctor.”
“I’m with Sage.” Juniper nods, looking worried. “You need a doctor.”
“I can’t go to the doctor.”
