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I told her the whole story, from the crush I’d developed the day I moved to town, to how I felt like our night together was the start of something pretty great, to him basically running out the door. It wasn’t easy to recollect, that was for damn sure, and it was even harder because I knew Deva. I knew her sensitive heart, and I knew she’d blame herself.
“Oh, Lyric.” She sniffled. Her eyes grew glassy, and her chin trembled. “I’m so sorry. I’m a terrible friend.”
My hand shot across the table, my fingers wrapping around hers and squeezing. “Don’t say that. You’re an incredible friend. You have nothing to apologize for.”
“I had no idea you had feelings for him.” Her eyes widened and she slapped a hand over her mouth to cover her gasp. “Oh god, Lyric. You were there when he kissed me. I feel terrible. You have to know that I never would have—if I’d known—I wouldn’t—”
I gave her hand another squeeze and smiled. “I know, honey. And I was never mad or upset with you. Not even for a second. There was a reason I didn’t say anything to you about it.”
“What’s that?”
I lifted a single shoulder in a shrug. “I’d decided that if you really liked him, I was happy for you. You deserve nothing but amazing from here on out for the rest of your life, and if he made you happy, who was I to stand in the way of that because of a silly crush?”
She sniffled again, batting at the lone tear that broke free with the back of her hand. “You’re the best friend a woman could ever ask for. I’m so happy I met you.”
“The feeling is beyond mutual.”
She cleared her throat and we both picked up our coffees to drink. Once Deva placed hers back on the table, her expression had shifted from sad to resolute. “Okay, so since I know the whole story now, it’s only right that I hate Holton as well. Right? As your best friend?”
I snorted, giving my head a shake. “You don’t have to do that.”
She hardened her features, squaring her shoulders and lifting her jaw in determination. “Oh, yes I do. And who does he think he is, writing you a speeding ticket after how he treated you? He’s the absolute worst.”
My head fell back on a deep belly laugh, something that felt damn good, given the mood I’d been in lately.
Men would come and go in life. But something had to be said for surrounding yourself with strong, loyal friends who accepted you, flaws and all.
I’d lucked out when it came to my friends, that was for damn sure.
ChapterEight
HOLTON
I drovethe screw into the board and released the trigger on the drill, pulling it back and blowing the sawdust away.
The Bluetooth speaker set up on the workbench was cranking out Creedence Clearwater, the sun was shining bright, a comfortable breeze blowing in from the lifted garage door. It was a gorgeous autumn day, and I’d decided to do something useful with my day off instead of sitting my ass on my couch, watching mind-numbing TV.
Or thinking about Lyric Jackson.
The first was easy enough. The second, not so much. I might have been keeping my hands busy, but my mind kept straying to the woman who’d been taking up every inch of space in my brain lately.
My mind had trailed off to a particular memory of our night together that was so distracting, I was now sporting a Band-Aid on two fingers on my left hand because I wasn’t paying attention while using a saw. It could have been worse, but I was starting to worry that thinking about Lyric was dangerous to my own health. Literally.
I looked down at Churro where she snoozed in the dog bed I’d hauled into the garage earlier so she’d be comfortable while hanging out with me. I was going to need to invest in multiple beds so I didn’t have to keep moving the one I had. “So? What do you think?” She made that face that looked like the dog version of a smile and wagged her tail happily. “You don’t have a clue what I’m saying do you?” She panted, her tongue hanging out the side of her mouth. Of course she didn’t know what the hell was going on, but it didn’t matter to her. As long as she was with me, she seemed to be happy.
I wasn’t willing to admit out loud that I’d given up on my attempt to adopt Churro out, but we both knew I was full of shit. At some point in the couple weeks I’d had her, I’d unconsciously made the decision to keep her.
I looked down at what I’d spent the better part of my day building.
Or maybe it wasn’t so unconscious.
The sound of a car drew my attention, and I looked up just as my little sister’s car pulled into my driveway.
I dusted my hands off and moved to the workbench to shut off the music just as the back doors of her car were thrown open and the two mini tornadoes that were my niece and nephew came shooting out.
“Uncle Holt! Uncle Holt!”
I braced for them to plow into my legs, twisting slightly to protect my balls. Years of experience had taught me that. When it came to these little hellions, they only had one speed—supersonic. I’d lost count of how many times I got hit in the nuts when these two came racing up for a hug.
