“And you still married him?”
“Right?!” The mirth in her tone gets us both snickering. “Complete grounds for divorce if he doesn’t get his shit together.”
“Absolutely.”
More laughter leaves us both alongside mischievous winking.
ThisI like.
Not only because it’s nice to be around another female – and don’t feel like we’re competing for the same thing – but because I’ve never had a close chick friend.
That desire was ripped out of me early on.
Kept on the sidelines.
Benched for decades.
Most women I’ve been around can be assigned to one of two teams.
Squad one: Keep your friends close but enemies closer – aka the waiting to stab you in the back for their benefit group.
Squad two: Only close to you to be closer to someone else – aka the waiting for an opportunity to bang your brother group.
It would be great to have arealfriend.
And there’s something about Bryn that’s signaling to me she’s a friendly lifeform rather than a hostile one.
I’m grateful for it.
That and she’s clearly happily married given the way she just gushed over her husband.
“Sorry, I couldn’t get a seat closer, Nae,” my brother unexpectedly sighs over my shoulder prompting the entire group to rotate to face him. “But I swear I heard the whole thing.”
There’s no stopping my head from tilting challengingly to one side.
“Okay, not the whole thing, but like most of it.”
The position remains unchanged.
“Half.”
One blink.
“Half of a half.”
A second.
“Half of a half of a half.”
Lifting my brows upward causes his lean, 6’10 frame to crumble forward.
“Okay, fine! I only caught the last three minutes!”
Victoriously grinning can’t be stopped.
“And you are?” Bryn salaciously investigates, eyes eagerly doing their best to drink him in from top to bottom.
“Jericho,” he retorts in a similar tone prior to extending his open palm for shaking “Jericho Boucher.”
