“That’s the one,” I say, forcing brightness into my voice I don’t feel. “She offered me a job.”
“What? That’s amazing!” Marlowe’s voice is full of that giddy excitement that should be flooding my system.
“Yeah.” I fake a smile in the mirror, trying to sell it to myself.
Maybe it’s just PMS—like the bloat.
“Okay... maybe it's not as amazing as I thought it was,” she says carefully.
I can’t even fake being happy with my best friend over the phone. I sigh, giving up.
“I mean, it should be amazing, right? I’m crazy not to feel over the moon about it.”
“Well, I don’t know. You loved working with Dr. Kroychek, didn’t you?”
“I did.”
“And you loved Denver, right?”
“Denver is gorgeous. Of course I loved Denver.” I set down the curling iron, my chest tight.
“And you have nothing keeping you there once Pops is fullyrecovered?”
My heart stalls in my chest. I meet my eyes in the mirror and then quickly glance away. “Right.”
“Hm,” she says, skepticism crackling through the line. “Maybe we should talk about the cowboy now.”
“What about him?” I swipe eyeliner across my lids, my hand not nearly steady enough.
“You like him?”
“We’ve been good friends for a really long time, Marlowe. Of course I like him.”
“But now he’s fucking you.”
“So?”
“So, you like him, like him?”
“It’s the same crush I’ve always had on him. The waters have always been muddy with me and Tripp.”
I was never sure what we were to each other. He was more than just my brother’s best friend. He was my friend too—a confidante. One who was flirty with everyone and always had a way with his words, always knew what to say to make whatever was worrying me loosen its fierce grip so I could breathe.
“And then you went and muddied them up some more by asking him to help you check things off your sex list.”
“You told me—“
“I did not tell you to ask your brother’s best friend to be your sexual guru. Don’t put that on me, Quinn Dawson. That was all you.”
“Fine,” I mutter, fumbling the cap back onto my eyeliner.
“I take it Tripp got the job done?”
“Uh huh,” I say a little shakily as I remember exactly how it had felt to have him sliding into me while I was pressed up against the barn.
Marlowe snorted. “Wow. Nothing more to add?”
“Nope,” I answer quickly, applying a thin line of gloss. I can’t go there right now—not while my brain is spiraling over Denver.
