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My eyebrows furrow. “I don’t?”
Claire shakes her head. “So what if he’s your best friend? Even best friends have secrets from each other. I have this friend. She’s in love with her best friend but he never notices it or suspects.”
“So you’re saying we should keep this a secret from Joel?”
“I’m saying he doesn’t have to know,” Claire answers. “Why do we have to tell him? We both already know what he’ll think. And frankly, it’s unfair for him to think that way. It’s not like we’re draining the life out of him, like we’re committing a crime.”
But I’m breaking the bro code, which feels like a crime. In fact, I’m starting to feel guilty now.
“You know what? Let’s not talk about this right now. We’re both tired.”
“You’re right.” Claire snuggles against me more. “I’m tired. I think my eyelids are getting as heavy as boulders.”
“So close them.” I stroke her hair. “Just sleep.”
“What about you?” she asks. “Are you going to leave as soon as I’m asleep?”
“No. I told you I’m not like Asher.”
“Hmm.”
“Besides, I’m tired, too.”
“Then you’ll just be here.”
“I will,” I assure her. “I’ll be snoring just as loudly as you.”
Claire chuckles. “I don’t snore.”
“You used to.”
“Well, I don’t anymore.”
“We’ll see.”
She falls silent. A few minutes later, I hear her even breathing and then a snore. I grin.
Well, at least it’s not a loud snore like my dog used to make. It’s a relatively quiet, feminine snore. More like a puppy’s whimper. Cute actually.
I plant a kiss on Claire’s forehead, close my eyes and let the sound wash me away to the shores of sleep. I have a feeling I’m getting a good one.Chapter NineClaire
“You look like you’re in a good mood,” Natalie tells me as we sit in the tasting room of the bakery that the wedding planner chose, supposedly to choose a wedding cake. “Do you feel like telling me why? Because I feel like listening.”
I look at her as I consider her kind offer. I want to tell her. Really, I do. I want to tell the whole world that I finally had sex with the man I’ve been dreaming of for the past seven years and that it was out-of-this-world, mind-blowing-beyond-imagination sex. So much so that it’s been two days and I still can’t get it out of my head. Frankly, I don’t think I ever will.
But I can’t tell anyone, especially not Natalie. If I tell her, she’s bound to tell Joel. Maybe not intentionally, but it will still happen. And then Joel will freak out. He’ll beat Ryker to a pulp. If Ryker fights back—and he has every right to—Joel will get beaten to a pulp. They’ll both get hurt and Natalie will get worried. And then I’ll feel guilty, though some of that might go away after I get an earful from Joel, which I surely will because he still thinks I’m eight, or maybe six.
In short, telling Natalie is a snowball of disaster waiting to happen, which I don’t want because right now, I just had sex with the man I’ve been dreaming of for the past seven years and it was the best sex I’ve ever had.
In short, I don’t want to ruin the mood. Or anything. So no. I’m not going to tell her.
“No, thanks,” I say. “I think I’ll just hold on to the happiness for a while.”
That should be fine, right? I mean, when people are sad, like when they’re grieving or going through a rough patch, they want to be left alone at first, and people respect that and leave them alone. Surely you have a right to be left alone when you’re happy, too. At least, I hope Natalie thinks so.
She nods. “Okay.”
Of course she does. She’s an angel.
“But I just want to say that I’m happy for you. Whatever it is that’s making you happy right now, I’m glad you have it.”
I give her a big smile. “Thank you, Nat. You don’t know how much that means to me.”
She places her hand over mine. “And if you ever need someone to talk to, whether it’s because things get so happy that you can’t contain them any longer or because things stop being happy—which I hope won’t happen—I’m just here.”
“I know.”
She pulls her hand away and places it on her lap. Then she draws a breath.
“Nervous?” I ask her.
“About the cake? No.” Natalie shakes her head. “Choosing the cake is one of the fun and easy parts. But yeah, there are more intimidating, daunting things that I can’t help but feel anxious about.”
“Like?”
She shrugs. “A lot of things.”
“You know you can always talk to me if it gets a bit much,” I tell her. “We can even get away from everything for a while.”
“Aw. That’s sweet.”
Not as sweet as the smile she’s giving me. Or her personality.
