Ellie grins. “Pretty,” she says, and leans in to give Sloan a smacking kiss on her cheek.
A pang of guilt pierces my heart when Sloane presses two fingers to the place where Ellie kissed her. Sadie and Ian are having trouble starting a family, and Sloane might have limited options, while I’m apparently Fertile Myrtle, wallowing in my worry over a circumstance so many people dream of. And even though it wasn’t planned, I love this baby already and appreciate how blessed I am that things have gone smoothly with this pregnancy so far. Well, smoothly if I ignore the all-day morning sickness, which seems to be easing slightly.
“Hey, kid, am I chopped liver over here?” Avah waves her hands in the air, clearly trying to lighten the mood. “Do you have a pinecone and a compliment for me?”
It’s not as if Avah doesn’t know she’s drop-dead gorgeous with blonde hair, a killer figure, and more confidence than I’ve ever seen in one person. But lately, I’m beginning to wonder if her brash and sass might be hiding something. The same way my bluntness and sarcasm do.
“Ya,” Ellie says after a minute, nodding like Avah passed some invisible test. Then she heads back to her pile to pick out the perfect one.
“Want to talk more about how your brother is a bossy asshole?” Avah grins as she asks the question, but it’s more a baring of teeth.
“I think that’s an unwritten rule for tech billionaires,” Sloane concedes. “But I can’t complain because he’s been so supportive during all of this.”
“Maybe.” Avah makes a show of studying her nails, which are perfectly manicured. She’s wearing a long-sleeve turtleneck sweater, which might be lightweight, but seems odd given the temperature today. “But he needs to learn to share.”
That makes Sloane laugh. “Jeremy was never good at sharing.”
My phone vibrates, and I glance down at the message from Felix.
Felix: You guys good?
The simple question makes something twist in my chest. I tap out a response and hit send without thinking.
Me: Why wouldn’t we be?
“What’s wrong? You’ve got that pruny look again,” Avah tells me. “You don’t want to be a wrinkly hag in your mid-twenties.”
Perfect. One more thing to add to my list of concerns. Premature wrinkles.
“She wasn’t serious,” Sloane assures me.
“If it gets bad, you can do Botox.” Avah makes a face like duh, girl…you know I’m joking.
Except suddenly I’m not in the mood for teasing. “Listen to what Felix sent me,” I say, reading the text aloud. But when I glance at my two friends, neither of them seems offended on my behalf. Frustration bubbles up in my throat. “He doesn’t think I can handle Ellie on my own for the day.”
“Or,” Sloane says slowly, drawing out the word, “he’s checking in because he cares.”
“Not everything is a judgment on your capabilities, Pip,” Avah adds. “Maybe it was with Bradley, but Felix doesn’t strike me as the micro-managing type.”
I open my mouth to argue, then close it because…yeah, that tracks. And I’m bordering on unhinged when it comes to my doubts and fears and feelings for Felix Barlowe. I don’t even think I can blame hormones at this point.
“You said he’s doing some sort of NFL team bonding or whatever today,” Sloane continues. “It’s got to be stressful. Maybe he just wanted to touch base with the person who makes him feel grounded.”
The idea that I might be Felix’s grounding force, the way he’s become mine, has my heart melting faster than a popsicle on a summer sidewalk.
“I didn’t think about it like that,” I admit quietly.
“Of course you didn’t. You were too busy assuming the worst.” Avah’s tone is gentle despite her words. “But I’m gonna go out on a limb and say the guy who stress-bakes sourdough at five a.m. and researches high-altitude prenatal nutrition actually cares about you for real.”
Before I can respond, a pinecone comes flyingthrough the air. Avah catches it one-handed without even looking, which is both impressive and very her.
“Nice aim, girl,” she says, examining it with mock seriousness. “Also, excellent pinecone selection. Ten out of ten.”
“Ava catch!” Ellie giggles and launches herself at Avah for a tight hug. “Good grl!”
“Yeah, yeah. Kids love me.” Avah’s deadpan delivery makes me snort. “They can sense that I’m never going to attempt to feed them vegetables.”
“You’re going to make a heck of a mother someday,” Sloane teases.
