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“What? I’m trying to explain so Winter can understand. We need to work on our boundaries, because we clearly have none, and Winter deserves the truth—especially with everything else that’s going on.” She gives me a meaningful look. “Like I said, we kissed twice. But it was during a game of spin the bottle when we were fourteen. My brother Laughlin has a terrible sense of humor, and he thought it would be fun to play, but like, I have four brothers, and half of our friend group is related to each other. It got super awkward when we realized it was going to be all about cousins kissing. It was a VC Andrews novel.”
Winter looks to be somewhere between disbelief and horror, and Lovey’s face keeps getting redder. “Laughlin thought it was hilarious,” Lovey adds. “And BJ and I ended up having to kiss twice because Lacey tapped out, which was smart of her, in retrospect. Anyway, it was super squicky and not good.” Lovey makes a gagging sound. “Kissing BJ was like kissing one of my brothers. Or what I imagine it would be like, anyway. It was just…ew.”
“Thanks,” I mutter.
“You felt the same way. And we made a pact to never speak of it again, because it was one of those situations that seemed like a good idea until it wasn’t.” Lovey fiddles with her hair. “I know BJ is a good-looking guy, a little on the wiry side, and like, man pretty—”
“I’m a figure skater, not a jacked-up hockey player.” I don’t know why I’m compelled to defend myself.
“I know.” She makes a general motion that apparently encompasses my wiry, man-pretty physique. “And what you have to offer is attractive to a lot of women, but—” She turns to Winter. “BJ and I have zero chemistry. He’s like a brother, but less annoying.”
“Really bolstering my self-esteem over here,” I grumble.
“I’m being honest. And I don’t do it for you either.” She addresses Winter. “But you absolutely do. The way BJ looks at you is borderline NSFW. That look has never, ever been directed at me.” She clasps her hands. “I swear we didn’t mean to fall asleep, and I promise it won’t happen again. I feel awful that I put you in this awkward position, and I don’t want you to start your first semester at Monarch feeling like this is something you need to worry about.” Lovey motions between me and her. “We’re just friends. That’s it.”
She appears finished, so I decide it’s time to wade in. “I’m really sorry, Winter. I swear what Lovey said is the truth. I wouldn’t string you along like that.”
Winter sucks her bottom lip between her teeth. She opens her mouth and closes it, then repeats the cycle. “I’m going to get ready for work.”
“I can drive you.”
She raises a hand. “I need time to process. Alone.”
“Can I text you later?”
She purses her lips. “I’ll text you. When I’m ready.”
“Okay. Fair. I’m really sorry. This isn’t how I wanted this morning to go.”
“Me either.” She walks into the spare room and closes the door behind her.
Lovey follows me into my bedroom, her hands on her cheeks. She doesn’t say anything until the door is closed, and even then it’s barely a whisper. “I’m so, so sorry. I really didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“It’s not your fault. I should’ve set an alarm or something.” I run a hand through my hair. “We’ve been doing this for years. Until now, it never occurred to me that it was a problem.” Part of that is because until Winter, my dating history consisted of one semi-secret relationship that imploded and a ridiculous number of casual flings that may or may not tally somewhere close to the hundred mark. Which isn’t something I want to focus on.
Lovey shakes her head. “I feel awful. She just agreed to move in with us in a couple of weeks. We need to fix this.”
“Hopefully she just needs time.” This can’t be the thing to derail her. Or us. My stomach twists. “I can’t believe I didn’t see the issue with this before now.”
“We’re used to being surrounded by people who know us. Our group is tight. They’re accustomed to our brand of friendship, but I think we need to be conscious of how we are moving forward.” The alarm on Lovey’s phone goes off. “I have to go. I need to be at the foodbank. Can we figure out how to manage this later?”
“Yeah. Of course.”
I follow her to the sliding door and open it in time to see Winter’s bike disappear down the driveway. I worry that this one stupid mistake has the potential to taint everything we’ve built.
24 THE OTHER SHOE
Winter
“Okay, you need to tell me what’s going on.” Rose blocks the door to the kitchen so I can’t get by her with the tub of dirty dishes from the early-morning rush. We have half an hour before the second wave.
“Nothing is going on,” I lie.
She props her fist on her hip. “Yesterday you were all smiles and giddiness and in love with BJ’s peen, and today you’re all frowny and serious and you’ve barely said six words since you walked through the door two hours ago—unless you were dealing with a customer, and then you were all forced-friendly.”
“I’m having an off day.” That part is not a lie. I’m definitely off.
Rose crosses her arms. “You were half an hour early for your shift, and I know I’m awesome to be around, but no one willingly shows up to work early just to hang out with me.”
