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“Well, it wasn’t top of mine and Brody’s to-do list when we used to hang out. We spent most of our time with a basketball or seeing who could give each other the darkest bruises.
“Sounds like fun,” I deadpan.
“But you’re forgetting that my best friend growing up was a girl, Doll. I’ve done plenty of things most guys haven’t.”
“Oh my God, tell me she made you do face masks and painted your nails.” I laugh, almost able to picture a young stubble-free Mav with a gunky mess on his face and cucumbers on his eyes.
“Uh—”
“Oh my God, you did.”
He shrugs one shoulder. “WatchedTen Things I Hate About Youwhile we did it too.”
“Oh my God,” I cry, my tears of mortification now replaced my happy ones. “I’m so talking to Ivy about this,” I blurt without thinking.
Mav’s eyes drop from mine as he thinks about what his best friend is going through right now.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, hating that I put that look on his face.
Here he was trying to cheer me up and look at what I did.
“It’s okay, Doll. Really,” he assures me, spotting the remote hiding under one of the cushions and rewinding the movie back to the beginning.
“You know all the words to this, don’t you?” he asks, a teasing lilt to his voice.
“Umm… maybe,” I whisper as it starts over.
“Good. Don’t hold back. Pretend I’m Kristie.”
“Dude, you’re a six-foot-four man. I have no chance of pretending you’re a little four-year-old girl.”
“Well, try. I want to give you the full experience of what you’re trying to recreate here.”
“Mav,” I breathe, getting all emotional again.
“Shhh… It’s starting.”
He keeps his eyes on the screen as the movie starts to play. But I don’t pay attention. I mean, I’ve seen it hundreds of times before, but right now, he’s more captivating than any movie that could be playing.
“Doll, you’re meant to be watching this.”
“I know,” I murmur. “Sorry.”
He turns to me, his eyes hard and determined. “What have I said, you never ever have to be sorry about anything.”
I swallow thickly, trying to force the lump from my throat, but it’s pointless.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“Anything, Doll. Anything.”
43
JD
Icome to with my head pounding and memories from the night before playing on repeat, ensuring my semi goes full mast.
Without opening my eyes, I slide my hand across the bed, searching for my little dove.
