Feeling guilty for needing friend advice while she’s recovering, I pull a small, cheerful-looking drawstring bag from my purse. Wiping her hands on her less-dirty-but-still-not-clean jeans, Cassie peeks inside the bag and then sends me the world’s biggest puppy dog eyes.
“Did you bring me special gummies from Angie’s?” she asks, referring to our local dispensary.
I answer by resting my chin on my fingertips in an angelic pose as Blake walks in.
“What are you two up to in here?” she asks, grinning at me. “By the way, I went ahead and put the kids down for the night. It’s a little early, but…we’ve had aday.”
“Bless you, woman. This is why I married you.” Holding up the bag of goodies, Cassie does a little shimmy, then moans. “Kinley stopped by Angie’s on the way in.”
“Oh, hell yeah,” Blake says, bringing me in for a big hug.
Ripping open the package, Cassie immediately downs two.
“Whoa there, speed racer. Those are some powerful—”
Cassie holds up her hand. “I know. I know exactly what these are, and I know exactly how bombed I want to be when I go to sleep tonight.”
Blake brings Cassie in for a decidedly gentler hug. “I’ve got you covered, baby.”
Grimacing, I ask, “Do you think you have enough time before it hits to give me some advice?”
“Of course. Follow me to the bedroom. I need out of this nasty shirt.”
Walking with her into her massive closet, I help my friend change into pajamas and get into bed. I slide in next to her, banging my head against her headboard.
“Isn’t today the day Mackenzie Nash is moving into your old hunting cabin?” she asks, a little too shrewd for someone who just took a shitton of THC.
I sigh. “Yep.”
“I take it you saw her again.”
“Yep.”
“I’m guessing she didn’t throw herself at you and declare her everlasting love.”
About as far from it as she could be.
“That would be correct. I kinda put my foot in it.”
“Again?”
“Yep. She clocked me examining her when she stopped by for the key.”
“Examining her?”
I grimace. “It’s just…now that I’ve read up more specifically on stroke protocol, I was looking at her muscle tone, stance, eye tracking, the whole bit. She wasn’t impressed. Actually, she kinda yelled at me.”
“Oof.”
“Yeah. Got a little spit on my shirt. Right here,” I point.
“Angry Mackenzie Nash spit. Bet you could put that up on eBay.”
I chuckle at my friend. “Anyway. Sorry for coming over with my stupid issues when you’re in pain.”
“Are you kidding me? Talking about your sad love life is the highlight of my day. It takes my mind off the fact that I nearly pass out when I sneeze.”
“Glad I could be here for you then,” I say, smiling despite myself.
