“I love you too.” I squeeze her hand. “How is he?”
We rarely ever bring alcohol to Lana and Christian’s unless it’s with permission from one of them. It’s a boundary we don’t want to cross. We don’t want to be inconsiderate, even when Christian tells us it’s okay.
Lana grins, pride gleaming in her eyes. “He’s really good. He trusts himself, and I trust him. Just lately, he’s been…I don’t like to see him like that, Nat.”
I frown.
Lana sighs. “Anyway, he’s at the gym with Julian, so let’s just drink this and get rid of it.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
I nod just as the front door opens, the sound of shoes thudding on the floor as they are left at the entrance echoes through the house before we hear a singsong voice. “I’m here!”
The front door closes again as the missing part of our trio comes in with jeans and an oversized, white turtle-neck sweater. Her short, dark bob is half up, half down and her wispy bags are purposely messy in a cute way I’ll never know how to achieve. Curly hair isn’t for the faint of heart.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Isa asks, her brows pinched.
Lana and I blink at her. Lana puts her hands on her hips and I cross my arms. “You look suspiciously pretty,” she says.
Isabelle chuckles, a nervous, shaky sound as she toys with the hem of the turtle neck. “Nope. Just—I’m just naturally pretty,stop it.”
“Is Nicolas coming over?” I ask Lana, and she shrugs.
Isabelle shrugs too. “Doesn’t matter.”
“You used his full name, so?—”
Isa groans. “What’s going on?”
Lana pulls out the corkscrew and punctures the cork of the giant bottle of chardonnay I brought with me. I look at Isa and say, “Rowan. Is. A. Sex. Machine.”
“Are you complaining or bragging?” Isa asks, chuckling and rounding the gorgeous marble island to search for wine glasses.
“Both!”
“Why!” Isabelle matches my frantic tone and Lana pours three glasses.
I groan and drop myself down on Lana’s couch, burying my face in my hands. “Because…it’s so good. Why is it so good?”
Isa and Lana share a knowing glance, leaving me out of the mix.
“What? What’s that look?”
“Oh, nothing,” Isa sings on a sigh. “Just…you and Rowan.”
Lana snickers across from her.
“What?What’s so fucking funny?”
They both start to laugh out loud at my misery.
“I am in distress!” I shout over their laughter. “Rowan is killing my vagina and you’re laughing!”
A throat clears and the laughter dies, my eyes widening to the point of pain as we all turn our heads. Christian and Julian stand just opposite of the family room in their gym clothes, paper bags from Beetlejuice in hand. I hide my glass and the bottle beneath our shared blanket and Isa is quick to do the same. Lana hides her glass tumbler beneath her oversized hoodie.
“Oh! Hey, guys,” Isa says innocently.
