Wren walks into the kitchen and I follow behind her.
“Yes, but we’ll have to order something because I haven’t had a chance to go to the grocery store…” My words trail off as my gaze falls on the bags of groceries. A few items sit directly on the counter, but most of it is still packed away like Travis was unloading it and got distracted. He must have called me while he was unloading them.
A quick look in the fridge tells me what I’d already surmised—he shopped for me. I know he did it for me, the same way Iknow he does so many little things for me. He’s so thoughtful. Not some of the time. Always.
Wren and I cook a frozen pizza in the oven and then we rent one of our favorite childhood movies,Tinker Bell and the Legend of the NeverBeast. We’ve seen it so many times we both have it memorized. We watch our favorite parts and talk through the rest.
She tells me about classes and her friends, a study abroad program she wants to apply for next year, and gives me three new true crime podcast recommendations.
“So…” She takes another slice of pizza from the plate and eyes me from her side of the couch. “Tell me about Travis.”
“What about him?”
“Anything. Everything. You’ve not said a lot about the guy and my social media stalking has only provided information on his hockey stats and previous dating history. Did you know he dated Miss Universe?”
I glare at her. I did know (I also saw the pictures online) but I’ve chosen not to think about it too hard.
Wren bats her lashes at me, then continues, “How will I plan an epic divorce party without all the dirty details? Does he snore? Does he pee on the seat?”
I let out a laugh. “I don’t think so and no.”
“Other annoying or gross habits?”
“No.” I shake my head. “He’s a great guy.”
A smile slowly lifts the corner of her lips and then grows. My face heats in response because I know that look. It’s a smug, satisfied,I’m going to either hold this information against you or tease you foreverlook.
“You like him.”
“Of course I do.” I think about the kiss earlier and my lips tingle. That’s what I hoped would happen last night. Not exactly that way, but the end result.
“Yeah, but you really like him. I haven’t seen you this way since Michael Erin.”
Michael Erin was a boy I had a massive crush on in tenth grade. I was too young and hopeful to care who knew it. I doodled his name and plotted elaborate schemes to get his attention. One of which such plans actually worked, and he asked me out. It was amazing. Then three days later he told me he thought we were better off as friends. I was heartbroken and certain I’d never feel that way about anyone again. It was Wren’s idea to plot elaborate schemes to ruin his life, which we’d never had gone through with of course, but it did make me feel better. I’d forgotten that part. Wren was a true crime aficionado way before it was cool.
“What? No. I’m acting the same as always. Travis and I are just…it’s complicated.” At least I’m not doodling Travis’s name on scraps of paper. Though I guess last night sort of was an elaborate scheme that backfired spectacularly.
“Complicated is just code for you really like him but the situation is fucked.”
That is a surprisingly accurate summary.
“Speaking of Michael Erin, he’s getting divorced,” Wren says with a waggle of her brows and a coy smile.
“Again?”
She nods, grin widening. “You might have a shot at being lucky number three.”
I laugh again and it feels good.
“What about you? Meet any new cute boys?”
“No.”
“No?”
“Yes, but no. We aren’t talking about me yet. You still haven’t told me about Travis.”
At his name, the door opens and Wren and I both freeze as my husband walks in looking cold and windblown and oh so very handsome.
