“It’s a compliment,” she deadpans. “I like weird and different. Where you from?”
“Chicago.”
“Interesting.” Her gaze flicks to Chaz and then back to me. “You and the C-man here knocking privates?”
My eyes widen at her bluntness, but Chaz steps in, his voice firm and protective. “Lexie is special to me. Respect, aw’right?”
“Ah, shit. My bad,” she says, looking more intrigued than apologetic. “Sometimes I just say whatever.”
“That’s okay,” I add quickly.
“Now you’re just being nice.” Her laugh is rough and rusty, like it’s not something she does often.
“True.” I smile in agreement. “Bad habits can be hard to break. But I’m working on it.”
“Cool. Are you a model?” she asks as if her mouth spurts whatever comes to mind.
“No.”
“Lexie’s a photographer,” Chaz supplies proudly. “A brilliant one.” He pulls out his phone, swiping through pictures to show her.
“Those are dope,” Lot says.
“Thank you. I’m just getting started.”
“I’ve been on her about putting together an online portfolio,” Chaz adds, always my hype man. “Lot’s an artist too,” he tells me.
“Oh, what kind of art do you do?”
“T-shirt designs.” She opens her coat wider to show me a skilled graffiti illustration of a curvy pin-up woman flexing her bicep while a man cowers beneath her combat boot. “Strong women rule, weak-ass men drool.”
“Couldn’t agree more,” I say with a smile. “You’re very talented.”
“Thanks.” Her attention shifts again, this time asking Chaz about Eva, Val, and Sophia. “Can’t wait to see them. It’s been years. Soph must be grown.”
“Twenty-two.”
“Day-um.” She whistles.
“Not gonna ask about Dice?”
Lot kisses her teeth. “I don’t have time for that.”
He slings an arm around her shoulder. “Talk to him. Clear the air.”
She shrugs him off. “I have enough shit on my plate just being back. Dyson Jones isn’t getting a minute of my time. I’llsee you around, C. You too, Amazon.” And just like that, she disappears down the aisle.
“Wow.” I blink after her, feeling like I’ve been swept up in a whirlwind.
“Yeah, Lot is a lot,” he says with a grin. “But she’s good people once you get past the sharp edges.”
“She’s confident and gorgeous. Were you two ever a thing?”
“No. I never saw her as more than a good friend.” He shrugs. “Still don’t.” He leans in, kissing me lightly. “I only have eyes for you.”
His words reinforce my hope that the foundation we’ve built can withstand the repercussions of withholding the truth about myself. That it won’t matter. That getting to know the real me will be enough.
Iwatch Lexie unpack the shopping bag. She lines the groceries up in a neat, orderly fashion, organizing everything just so. She props her phone on the counter, opening a recipe she’d bookmarked. I bite back a grin. Lexie’s a researcher at heart. She probably scoured the Internet for the easiest dishes with the highest ratings and gathered some trivia along the way.
