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“Then why move here?” I asked.
There was hesitation, and it caused her to stumble. “I… I guess I just needed a change of pace or something.”
Or something?
“Uh-huh…” I wasn’t convinced, and Auston shot me a warning glance.
“A change of scenery can be a good thing. A fresh, new start!” I swear, my best friend was like an automatic cheerleader. He would celebrate the smallest successes for a complete stranger as if they were his twin sister.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
Auston spun his beer bottle in his hand. “Okay, so tell us three random things about yourself. Go.”
She widened her eyes, like the stereotypical doe in headlights, and I laughed at her obvious and sudden discomfort. Something told me Simone wasn’t the type to share her secrets. With a deep breath, she sat back and held up her fist.
“One.” She lifted her finger to count. “I like to read.”
When she started to lift her second finger, Auston held up his hand. “What do you like to read?”
“Uh… I like to read romance novels.” She blushed, and Auston perked up in his seat.
“What, like the porn kind?” he pushed.
Simone’s hands twitched as if she considered covering her face, but then she sat back. “They can get pretty dirty, yeah. They’re fun.”
“Hey, no judgment here.” Auston laughed. “Okay, keep going. Number two.”
She lifted her finger back in the air, adding a second. “Two. I like to cross-stitch.” I chortled, and she turned to glare at me. “What’s so funny? It’s relaxing.”
“Nothing. My grandma likes to cross-stitch too.” I raised a brow, satisfied when she pursed her lips.
Tugging her phone out of her purse, she opened it to a picture. “I doubt she stitches like this.” She turned it around to show us a photo of a stitched picture with the words Go Fuck Yourself outlined by flowers.
Auston threw his head back and laughed. “I have to get one of those for my sister. She’d love that shit.”
“I’d be happy to make her one.”
Of course she would.
I poured myself another shot and took it without a word.
“Okay, okay. One more.” He was starting to feel the liquor. I could tell by the flush in his cheeks that almost matched his red hair. Mostly it was because he laughed harder when he was tipsy, and nothing Simone was saying was funny.
Simone tapped her finger against her chin as if lost in thought. “Hmm, okay. I love reality TV.”
“My sister watches a lot of reality TV too, and so does Logan!” Auston roared again with laughter, and I felt the urge to slap him.
“I do not!” My objection sounded extra defensive, and I blamed the gin.
Cocking his head, Auston rolled his eyes. “Of course you do. All of those stupid competition elimination shows are reality TV.”
“Oh, I hate those shows,” she said, as if offended by the comparison. “They’re all so cheesy and scripted. I bet you anything they already know the winner before they even film the first episode. Boring. I watch cooking shows. Like Hell’s Kitchen is my shit.”
“Sure, because watching a bunch of people rush around and put things in the oven is so exciting.”
Before she could argue, her phone lit up and buzzed against the old wood. She jumped, quickly snatching it up. “Uh, excuse me. I need to take this.”
Answering the call, she sped towards the hallway leading to the back door. “Hey, is everything okay?”
