Even now, I don't think there'll ever be a day when I hear it, even if it's not attached to him and don't flinch.
Mara catches my blank stare and leans into the stroller, pretending she's fixing the boy's shirt.
I manage something like a smile, but my voice sounds too low. "And of course Ben would pick those names."
"Yeah," she says softly, "well, in the end we went with Milo and Pia."
"Ah. Very cute. Good choice." My voice sounds too bright.
Mara studies me for a beat with heaviness in her eyes, then blinks it away and sips her tea. "Well, your life is something else now. Saw your face on a magazine cover the other day! The critics are calling itthe romance of the decade."
"Yeah. Pretty wild. I've got the biggest book signing of my career tonight, close to a thousand people."
"Wow."
"Yeah, I'm reading in front of them. Had to ask my assistant for a horse tranquilizer just to survive," I say, the panic in my voice evident.
Mara folds her hand over mine, and her voice comes out warm and steady. "Don't worry. You'll be incredible. I saw you on the morning show, with all the people behind the windows. You're a professional. I would crumble."
"Thank god for the people around me because I was dying inside."
She pauses, curiosity flickering beneath her lashes. Then she leans back and juts her chin. "So, dating that guy? The psychosexual romance author?"
I wrap my fingers around my cup tighter, caught off guard. "You mean Julian?"
She nods, too slow to be casual. "Julian Vexley."
"No. Not really," I say, and roll my eyes for good measure, though I'm not sure why. Julian's good. A reliable friend all these months.
"Not really? Sounds like a maybe?" she echoes, raising her cup, lashes fluttering like she's not prying now. "He's a hottie. There's something very magnetic about him."
"Well, you're not wrong there," I say, lifting a brow. "He is very handsome."
Her stare sharpens, and she taps her nails against her cheek in that I-smell-secrets way she's perfected over the years.
"Stop it," I say pointedly. "He just has that presence women fall for. I've seen it a thousand times—and it doesn't work on me."
"Uh-huh." She nods twice, to the rhythm of her words. "I saw the video. You two on that morning show."
"Of course you did," I say flatly, smiling despite myself. "That one was chaos. There was a mob of women outside the studio, practically climbing each other for him, begging him to sign their boobs so they could tattoo it later."
"All I saw was that he didn't sign a single one. His hand wason your back, steering you into the car, and his eyes were glued to you the entire time."
I twist my mouth. "Yeah, I told him not to do that. I don't need to end up murdered at home with my sleeping mask on by one of his fans. He was just asking if I was okay with the humbug because of my anxiety. Sweet, right? Thoughtful."
Why are my cheeks going red? I didn't do anything.
"So you're saying if youweredating him, you'd tell me?" she asks, assessing.
"Yeah, I would," I say, way too fast. Nod too much to make it sound believable. "People connect us because Carl thought it'd be great PR to link us together, and it instantly became viral. Before I could even blink."
She lifts a brow, unconvinced. "You didn't even kiss the guy?"
"No, Mara," I say with a frustrated sigh. I also want to run at this point, because there's that once almost time, but that was a mistake, and we were drunk, and it will never happen again, so it doesn't matter.
"Okay," she says, smirking behind her cup.
I give her a dry look but remain silent.
