Since when do you care what anyone thinks?
Again, she’s quiet.
And then finally…
Erin
Okay, The Loon at 6.
Lorraine sees us walk in and waves like she’s been expecting us all along. “Booth in the back!” she shouts, already scooping up menus. The place smells like beer and burgers, and maybe a whiff of the Tater Tot hotdish, which is exactly what I need after a long day at the cafe.
By the time we’ve squeezed into the booth—me and Erin on one side, Goldie and Ava on the other—Lorraine has set down four helpings of Tater Tot hotdish like she’s reading our minds.
“You girls’ll need more energy for all the gossip,” she says, tossing a wink before disappearing again.
“Did you guys even look at the menu?” Ava asks, amused.
“We stopped pretending to a while ago,” Erin says, forking into her hotdish like she hasn’t eaten in weeks. “She sees us, she brings out the tots. It’s a beautiful thing.”
Goldie smirks. “Remember the time she tried to bring us a salad?”
“Oh my God,” I groan. “You would’ve thought she was betraying us personally, according to that one.” I point at Erin.
“Because she was,” Erin says solemnly. “If I wanted greens, I’d stay home and eat the sad bagged spinach in my fridge.”
That makes Ava laugh hard, and Erin’s cheeks tinge pink.
Interesting.
Percy is the only one I’ve ever seen make Erin blush, but she also is rendered speechless whenever Percy is around. I’m not sure that’s a winning combo, when it comes right down to it.
“The only exception is a Lorraine Juicy Lucy,” I tell Ava. “And I shouldn’t even sayexceptionbecause we never leave out the hotdish…it’s just something in addition.”
“Got it.” Ava laughs. “I haven’t been in Windy Harbor anywhere close to the rest of you, so I needallthe tips.”
After a few minutes of chatter about Goldie’s ongoing battle with tile samples at Windhaven, and laughing about Jackson still bragging about how he did at broomball, Erin wipes her mouth with her napkin and leans in, eyes sharp.
“Okay. Now that we’re fed and the hotdish-induced coma hasn’t hit yet, let’s get to it,” she says.
“Get to what?” I ask when I realize she’s looking at me.
She raises her eyebrows. “You know what. I tried to start this the other night after broomball, but with all the nosy brothers around, I couldn’t get a word in. Now there’s not a single brother in sight.” She points a loaded fork at me. “Something wassizzlingbetween you and Camden the other night. Don’t even try to deny it.”
Goldie sets her fork down slowly. “You know,” she says, smirking, “I didn’t get any of theI’m going to claw his eyes outvibes either. Now that you mention it, it almost seemed like”—her grin spreads wickedly—“you guys were flirting.”
I nearly choke on my Coke. “We were not?—”
“You were totally flirting,” Erin says. “I could feel it radiating off the rink. I had to shield my eyes.”
“It was…competitive energy,” I say, desperate. “You know, like trash talk. Banter. Sports psychology.”
Ava tilts her head, studying me. “Sports psychology?”
“Yes,” I insist. “Like…keeping him off-balance.”
Goldie bursts out laughing. “I got the feeling you would’ve liked it if you’d caught him off-balance, right on top of you.”
All three of them cackle like wicked witches.
