“Sorry, he did,” I clarify, stumbling over my words. “He definitely did the job. Great job. Five stars.”
Jo doesn’t react, only gives me a blank stare.
“What?”
“Oh nothing. It’s just, for someone whose best friend since high school just touched their pussy for the first time, you were acting like it was a normal Saturday.”
“Well I didn’t want to bring it up first thing in the morning.”
“Why not?” she demands, smacking her palm flat on the counter for emphasis. “That’s very important information. You should be screaming about it!”
Her bluntness nails my reaction to this entire situation on the head. I haven’t known how to act when it comes to this new dynamic between Jamie and me. I think I’ve subconsciously been trying to keep everything the same, but that’s not the reality of the situation. If we’re going to move forward, I have to embrace the change.
So I tell her the truth.
“I’m afraid to start something serious,” I confess, “because if we break up, I’ll lose him as my friend.”
Jo nods sympathetically and reaches her hand across the counter to take mine. “First of all, that’s stupid. From what I know about Jamie, even if he hated you, he would never leave your side.” She pats the top of my hand with her other and adds, “Besides, you have me.”
It makes me sad that I never gave Jo enough credit. All this time I let a great friendship go to waste, simply because I never thought to confide in her. Though I wish I could have realized sooner, I’m happy I have her now.
I smile and give her hand a light squeeze.
“I think you just have to trust the connection you already have,” she says. “If something is going to happen between you, it will happen naturally. Don’t let yourself feel embarrassed orscared just because he’s your friend. If anything, that should make you feel more comfortable with each other.”
I hadn’t thought of it that way before, but she has a point.
“And if you do decide to go forward with it,” she adds, “just think of it like taking a car for a test drive. Take him for a ride, girl. And I’m going to need all the details.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
JAMIE
It’s around 3:30 in the afternoon when I hear Raegan come in through the front door. I’ve been ready and waiting for her to get back for the past hour, but as she comes into the kitchen, I make myself look busy on my laptop. I continue replying to a nonexistent email as she sits down at the table and wipes sweat from her forehead. Her sweatshirt looks damp, either from sweat or something else I don’t want to know about.
“That took a little longer than expected,” she sighs, apology lacing her voice.
“No worries.” I make a show of closing my laptop. “You’ve got perfect timing. I just finished up.”
The lie comes a little too easily, but the relief on her face makes it worth it.
“Just let me go change real quick,” she says before darting back to her bedroom. It hasn’t sunken in yet that it’s officially hers.
I wait patiently with my keys already in hand while she changes. When she steps back into the kitchen, she’s wearing a long sleeve black shirt and loose-fitting jeans. Her hair has been readjusted from a high bun on top of her head to a low ponytail.She’s flushed, cheeks pink as she rolls her sleeves up to her elbows. “Well, what are we waiting for?” Her smirk makes my heart thump as I follow her out of the door, locking up behind us.
The closest furniturestore is about thirty minutes outside of town. As we make our way to the highway, I try my best to keep my eyes on the road, but I’m finding it hard to look away from Raegan. She insisted we roll the windows down to enjoy the cool breeze, and now she’s got one hand extended outside the cab to catch the air in her spread fingers. Small strands of hair fly wildly around her face, eyes closed. Like this, she appears innocent and unmarred, and I want to keep this image of her in my mind forever.
I can see splotches of greenish yellow starting to form amidst the purple bruising on her neck, meaning it’s finally beginning to heal. Throughout this entire week since the attack, I don’t think she’s made a single effort to hide it. The sentiment makes me proud, because I know her decision to show it is brave. It’s her small way of choosing to stay in the open instead of hiding herself away.
When we finally reach the furniture store, the first thing Raegan does is get distracted by a set of lemon themed serving trays. I have to physically take her by the shoulders and steer her in the opposite direction.
“No more lemon shit,” I insist.
“I thought we agreed you weren’t going to call me that.”
I wink at her suggestively. “You’re right. Just lemon.”
Her cheeks go pink again, but this time I know my use of her new nickname is what’s made her overheat. I hadn’t actually planned on using it regularly, but seeing the way it’s made her squirm each time it comes out of my mouth has made it all the more enjoyable.
