Astrid groans. “I wish I were in Nashville. I should be there with you guys.”
“When are you guys coming back to town?” I ask, creating an arch with the brush over a yellow blob.
“We’ll be back in January for the rugby season,” Astrid says. “But we do have a few meetings up there soon, so we’ll make a long weekend out of it so I can spend some time with you guys.”
“You can stay with me,” I say, etching a few trees into the paint with the back of my brush. “I have three extra bedrooms. Tell Gray to bring his cowboy brother. He can share my room with me.”
“You’d kill Hartley, Gianna,” Astrid says, laughing.
I laugh, too. “I’d be sure that he went out with a smile.”
“You’d better clear that with your new boyfriend.” Audrey picks up her phone.
“Hey, where are you taking me?” Astrid asks.
I look over my shoulder as Audrey props Astrid against a pillow on the couch. Then she reaches for the box Lucia sent. I told Audrey to open it earlier, but Astrid called, and we got distracted.
“Why do you have a proofing basket?” Audrey asks, pulling things from the container. There’s a basket, a couple of oddly shaped tools, and what looks like bonnets. “Are you into baking all of a sudden?”
“What the hell is that stuff?”
“This is a proofing basket for sourdough,” she says. “These are liners and covers for it. You have a scoring lame, a dough whisk, and a bowl scraper.”
I wrinkle my nose and set the egg tray on a bench I carried in from the garage. “I thought bread making was supposed to be easy.”
“I’ve been baking bread for Gray.” Astrid beams. “I did a cherry chocolate chip loaf the other day. And I did a pistachiobrown sugar loaf for Hartley. He said it was the best bread that he’s ever eaten.”
A smile pulls at the corners of my lips. “If he wants to eat, I can help him out with that.”
“Gianna,” Audrey says.
“I meant sourdough, Auddie.” I unfasten my overalls and let them fall to the floor. “I swear.”
“Oh, that’s cute,” Astrid says. “What are you wearing?”
“This outfit is brought to you by my friend insomnia.” I dance in a little circle, showing off my chocolate-brown shorts and tank to my friends. “It’s so comfortable, and I think it was like fifteen dollars because I did get it on sale.”
Audrey frowns. “I wish my insomnia purchases were that cheap.”
As soon as she says it, regret sweeps across her features. Astrid and I exchange a look. If Audrey is making impulse purchases, something’s amiss. That especially worries me, considering how down she’s been lately.
I move Astrid back to the coffee table, and then I sit next to Audrey.
“Are you okay?” Astrid asks her.
Audrey plays with the end of the ribbon in her hair, looking anywhere but at us. Her big blue eyes are foggy, as if she’s holding back tears. I reach for her hand and squeeze it.
“What’s going on?” I ask softly.
“I almost bought a ticket to Boston the other night,” she says. “And then I remembered that it’s different now, so I bought a new pair of running shoes that I don’t need.”
“New shoes are never a bad decision,” I say, trying to bring some levity into the conversation.
Audreyalmostsmiles.
Andrew, Audrey’s brother, lives in Boston and is best friends with the guy who broke her heart. She’s avoided visiting Andrewfor weeks, and it’s killing her not to see him. But she says she doesn’t know how to act around him and his friends, including Dipshit, and that she needs time to come to terms with reality. Which—fair. But the cloudiness in her eyes just about breaks my heart.
“I feel so … boring,” Audrey says as a single tear streaks down her face. “I’m a dud.”
