“Because it’s our manly bonding time,” Elliot retorts. “No girls allowed.”
Dilynne leans forward and stage whispers, “It’s really just because they’re afraid they’re going to lose to a bunch of girls.”
Elodie laughs. “Yeah, probably. I mean, my grandma taught me how to play poker, and I love screwing over an unsuspecting, cocky man when he thinks I’m just an innocent girl who doesn’t understand the game.” Batting her eyelashes, she pretends to be a damsel in distress, making Laney and Dilynne laugh.
Only the sight makes the corner of my mouth tip up.
Dilynne moves to high-five her. “Hell yes! Call these boys out!”
And in this moment, I know that Elodie fits in just perfectly with our group, which means there’s one less thing for me to worry about.
Now if only I could make this fuzzy feeling I get when I’m around her go away.
Chapter 8
Elodie
A Charming Bull & An Asshole Boss
“You know, you don’t have to go out with my sister. It won’t hurt my feelings or anything.”
My eyes land on Henley where he’s watching me put my lipstick on in the mirror by his front door. It’s one of the only things he has hanging on the walls in this house, and luckily, it’s in a very useful spot. “Youmight not care, butsheprobably will.” Turning around to face him, I put the cap back on the tube of lipstick and stick it in my purse. “And your sister scares me more than you do.”
He crosses his arms over his chest while tilting his head at me. “Doesn’t surprise me. She scares me too, but you don’t have to go out with her out of obligation. I can handle her.”
I drift my gaze over to Remy sitting in her high chair, shaking one of her toys around. “You can be honest, Henley. Do you not want me to go because you’re scared of being here alone with your daughter?”
Remy lets out a garbled noise, making us both laugh.
“Actually,” Henley says, stepping closer until I can feel the heat of him, “I feel a hell of a lot more comfortable now than I did two weeks ago before you came into our lives.” His eyes move up and down my body appreciatively, which I shouldn’t notice or enjoy, but I do. “I don’t know what I would have done without you, El.”
When he says things like this, it makes it even harder to resist getting lost in those hazel eyes of his. “You would have figured it out.”
He shakes his head slowly. “Doubtful. I’d probably still be cleaning up projectile vomit and poop.”
Laughing, I turn back around to check my appearance in the mirror one more time, fluffing my hair that I curled to give it volume, and making sure there’s no black specks of eyeshadow or mascara under my eyes.
It’s been a long time since I’ve dressed up for a night out, and honestly, seeing myself all dolled up is renewing that urge I have to perform. Part of the fun of singing in front of a crowd is slathering my face with makeup, putting on an outfit that’s both sexy and fun, and talking to a crowd while singing songs and listening to them sing them back to you.
But it’s been a long time since I’ve had that rush.
And I’m not sure if I’m willing to give it up.
I adjust my jean shorts, pull up my socks so my cowboy boots don’t rub against my calves, and smooth down my white tank top. “Hey, at least you have the internet to turn to. Can you imagine what our parents did before that magical invention? I mean, it wasn’t the powerhouse it was back when we were kids, but it still beats having to look stuff up in books, or worse, encyclopedias.”
Henley grunts. “Even if my parents had reliable access to it, they probably wouldn’t have used it for parenting tips.”
Each time he makes comments about his childhood, it makes me want to push him further and ask him so many questions I’m fairly certain he won’t answer. Because deep down, I know Dilynne was right—him becoming a father is forcing him to confront feelings he’s never dealt with. I can practically see when his mind ventures back to a memory each time either of us brings up his parents, biological or foster. And even though I still consider my childhood pretty great compared to others, I can’t imagine what he and his sister went through, and I want to be someone he can talk to about it.
“Even still. No one has all of the answers, and every child is different. You would have had to figure things out on your own, and for what would work with Remy.”
Remy tosses her toy to the ground. “Apparently what works for her is watching me pick this up a hundred times.”
I chuckle. “Well, you have fun with that tonight. And to your earlier claim, I’m not going out with your sister out of obligation. I genuinely like her. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt welcomed by someone like that, and since I’ve felt like I could be myself around them.”
“No super friendly people lining up to be your friends in Los Angeles then?”
His comment catches me off guard. “Oh. Uh…”
