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“Like,at all?”
“Nope.”
“So, what happened?”
And I tell her. I tell her because I am bursting with it (whateveritis) and the more she asks, the more I realize that Iwantto tell her. Hell, I want to tell anyone who will listen. But, given that my entire world is contained within one house, I may as well start with Lyla.
So, I tell her everything. From the moment in the bar, the kiss outside the hotel, the dance and hours talking, perched a thousand feet above ground, to the moment he walked me to the front door and kissed me goodnight. By the time I’m done, I’m lying on my back on the bed, the pillow on my stomach, my knees up in the air and my feet flat on the mattress.
“Wow.”
“I know.”
“And? Have you thought about it? Do you know what you’re going to do?”
“I have.”
“Well? What?” she asks.
Rolling onto my side, I take the pillow with me. “What do you think?”
“Yas!” Standing up, she does a little booty shake. “This is so exciting.”
She strips down to her underwear and starts tugging on a pair of jeans. “Whenare you going to do it?” BeforeI can reply, she adds, “What are you going to wear?Whereare you going to do it?
I hesitate. The truth is that it was only when she told me she was going to seduce Rye that I had the thought at all. I don’t really consider it seduction because I’m pretty sure Aiden doesn’t need convincing. He knows where we’re going to end up as well as I do. But, still, that’s the moment I made up my mind. “I don’t know yet,” I say. “I’m going to take things slow. It’s not great timing.”
“Trust Lizzie to be fucking things up from the grave.”
Ignoring her statement, I say, “I don’t want to get him in trouble. I guess he’ll want to keep it on the DL.”
Turning onto my back again, I stare at the white ceiling. But thoughts of Lizzie steal in, uninvited. “Some days I still can’t believe she’s gone.”
Lyla opens the drawer at her bedside table and takes out a bright purple vibrator. She tosses it in her bag with everything else. “Yeah, me too.” She snort-laughs and looks over at me. “If I tell you a secret, promise you won’t tell a soul?”
“Promise.”
For a moment I think she’s going to tell me something completely ludicrous. She has that slightly untamed look in her eye. But at the last moment, she looks away. “I kinda…maybemiss her. Lizzie.” When her eyes water, she crinkles her nose and blinks until they disappear.
She sits on the bed next to me, so I wrap my arms around her waist and snuggle closer. “Me too. Even with all the drama.”
“I hope that cop of yours finds out what happened,” she says, flopping over me. “The not knowing is the worst part.”
“Yeah. It is.”
The doorbell rings. Lyla is still draped over me, so I feel her entire body tense. She sits up slowly, then pushes to a stand, her movements almost mechanical. “Well, here goes nothing.”
“Or everything?” I suggest, inexplicably aware that my own butterfly took an unexpected hard left turn last night.
“Or everything,” she agrees. “Wish me luck?”
Scooting to the edge of the bed, I get up, then lean over to zip up her suitcase. I yank the handle out and wheel it over to her. “You don’t need it. You’ve got this. Go get ’em, tiger.” I slap her ass to get her moving out the door.
“Thanks, Cat.”
“Anytime.”
As soon as she leaves, I walk to her bedroom window and peer out at them. I’ve seen Rye a few times over the years. He’s an even six-foot with a lean, rangy frame that suits the fact that he works with his hands all day. His longish, not-blonde-not-brown hair is typically tied back in a short bun, highlighting an angular jaw. The black, sleeveless shirt he wears now perfectly displays tattooed arms roped with muscle. He’s wearing low-riding blue jeans and scarred boots.Not bad, I think. Not pretty, like Aiden. But he has a kind of rough, scruffy sex appeal that’s hard to replicate.
