Page 105 of Every Little Thing


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“Paisley has her ways.”

“Because that’s not terrifying.”

Paisley shook her head, smiling. “Okay, I’m going to come out and say it. This oppressive atmosphere is putting me in the ring. Let me tell you about the gossip you missed.”

Putting her… through the wringer. Right. I relaxed in the seat, feeling the knots unwinding in my chest. “Hit me.”

“God, I don’t know where to start.”

“My business block? Since it’s been your business block these past six months.”

Her eyes flared up. “Oh, let me tell you aboutFong.Because this is more than just her singing. Her? Matthew? Fucking like animals.”

“What? Matthew T?”

“The one and only.”

“Fong?Does she not haveeyes?And… taste?”

“My questions exactly. I’m tempted to knock on the door one of these nights when I hear him grunting like an ox in labor and ask if she couldn’t find anyone better.”

I made a face. “What about Rich? Has he stopped pining for her?”

She rolled her eyes. “Rich has his head in the sand so far he’s snorting buried treasure. He’s the only one in Bayview who doesn’t know Fong and Matthew are having ugly-loud sex every night, simply because he refuses to acknowledge it. Said Matthew T just does deadlifting.”

“Deadlifting?In the middle of the night? At Fong’s house?” I shook my head. “From the one who gets dinner delivered to his house from two blocks down? He can’t be bothered to walk that far, but he’s doing nightly deadlifting on the other end of town?”

“Like I said, Rich is so far buried in the sand that even the most sophisticated seismological instruments can’t detect his ass. But while we’re on the subject of food delivery, guess who delivered my cheese from Hogshead last time?”

“Delivered—Paisley, you have two homes that are both adjacent to Hogshead.”

“Sh—shush. I was doing a thing with Emberlynn and Annabel down at the boardwalk. And I wanted a cheese board, so—look, forget that. Millie Cooke ring any bells?”

“She’s back in town?”

“Apparently!” She threw her hands up, whacking the table in the process and nearly spilling her beer. She lurched in, grabbing it and keeping it from tipping over, only looking the littlest bit chagrined. “Okay, maybe Millie Cooke back in town isn’t worth flipping the table over. But it almost is! After she ran off all uppity, coming back, tailing between her legs!”

I lost track of time like that, hearing every last bit of tiny gossip, and somewhere along the way I found the appetite to dig into my meal—somewhere along the way the food dwindled down to nothing, and somewhere along the way, we got the check, and somewhere along the way, I paid, telling Paisley I just had a high-paying job now even though what was really in my mind wasyou paid on the last date.And when we stepped outside, Paisley didn’t have her umbrella with her—in what universe would she have her umbrella, really—so I opened mine and held it for both of us against where the rain had settled to a steady trickle.

I’d missed hearing the sound of her voice, even if I’d been sick of it at one in the morning on my roof some nights. I’d missed the wild, unrestrained way she laughed, big belly laughs with snorts and all.

I guess I’d missed her.

The walk back to the bakery was too short by far—I wasn’t ready to face reality yet—and I paused at the door, but Paisley didn’t. She shoved the door open, grabbing me by the hand, and she pulled me in after her, and I had to fumble to get the umbrella closed before I tracked water all over the floor.

“See how much easier it is when you don’t keep the door locked for no reason?” she said.

“Indeed,” I said drily. “Why even have a door? Just leave an empty doorway.”

“Hey. Don’t say that like I wouldn’t.” She nodded me towards the stairs. “C’mon, you’re not losing me that easily. I could get weak and pass out again.”

She seemed fine. But I wasn’t going to tell her that.

I followed her upstairs into my old home, still strange and nostalgic with the way she’d left everything right where it was, and we kicked off our shoes and stripped out of our jackets. I’d been in the middle of hanging up my jacket by the door when Paisley hit me from behind, thudding into me and wrapping her arms around me. I softened back into her, trying to pretend it wasn’t breaking me feeling her this close to me, touching me, holding me.

“What, needed something to hold onto or you’d fall over?”

She snorted, burying her face between my shoulder blades. “No, you clown. I love you and I wanted to hold you.”

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