She nodded like she accepted this. Like it all made sense even when it didn’t make sense to me. “I talked to my mom after I left your place. She told me I couldn’t trust anyone except myself.”
“You can trust me.”
She twisted a finger around her necklaces as a shy smile bloomed on her face. It made me feel like gravity had given out and I was about to fly off into space, and that would be fine because I could exist for lifetimes on the warmth of one smile.
“Change of plans.” Brie dropped a tray to the table, sending coffee sloshing out of cups and breakfast sandwiches toppling. “I’m going to meet some people at a lawn bowling tournament in Somerville. I told Mason he can come if he wants.”
And now Whit’s warm smile was gone.
“You’re—what?” Whit glanced between Mason and Brie where they stood beside the table, apparently united in their newborn plan. “Did you say lawn…bowling?”
“Yeah, it’s just a few stops on the Green Line, and don’t worry, I’m not asking you to come along.” Brie grabbed a paper bag from the tray and fished out a scone. Pointing to it, she said, “Before you get yourself all worked up, these are chocolate chips. Not raisins or blueberries. Totally safe for me.”
Whit looked like she wanted to strangle her sister with that scone. “Fantastic.”
Before I could remind him to stay away from alcohol and social media, Mason said, “Don’t worry, man. I’ll behave.”
“Bold stance for a guy with two black eyes,” I said.
“Gotta start somewhere. First day of the rest of my life or something like that.” Mason raised his coffee cup in salute. “Catch you later.”
We watched them weave through the busy café and out onto the sidewalk, neither of us speaking for a moment.
Whit cleared her throat. “That’s probably fine. Right? They’re fine.”
Was I going to disagree with her now, when I was starved for her undivided attention? Not for a fucking minute. “Yeah,” I said, all confidence. “Of course. What’s the worst that could happen?”
She grimaced and gave meI can’t deal with thathands. “Let’s not open the door to those kinds of questions.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I reached for her coffee and mopped up the spill down one side. I wiped off the lid’s opening and set it in front of her before reassembling the sandwiches.
“You always do that,” she said, almost to herself. “Don’t you?” She pointed to the cup. “Whenever you leave coffee on my desk, it’s tidy like that. Not even a drop on the lid. I didn’t think about it until now.”
The back of my neck heated. I stared down at the sandwich. “If I’m bringing you coffee, I’m not leaving a mess on your desk.”
Whit leaned in, her arms folded in front of her. “What do you say we take this to go?”
“I’d say you have excellent ideas.” I met her gaze. “Love that about you.”
Twenty-Two
Whitney
Rule Number Two:
Gift generously.
“Not that this isn’t great,”Henry said, gesturing to the smooth surface of Jamaica Pond with his coffee cup, “but I thought you had something a little more private in mind. Your bedroom, for example.”
“The weather is ridiculously good.” I scraped the last of my yogurt from the bowl. “And I need to work out some tension.”
“I can relieve your tension. Trust me on that.”
Two boulder-sized balls of stress had parked themselves on my chest, and while I knew sex would shake them off for a time, they’d be right there waiting for me when it was over.
“Let’s take a walk.” I gathered up the remains of our breakfast. “Then we can get into bedroom activities.”
We started around the trail with an unseasonably warm sun shining down on us and our hands clasped together. We were quiet for the first few minutes and that silence let me breathe deeply for the first time all morning.
