“Oh, I absolutely am,” he rasps before stepping back. His absence against my body is cold, and I’m taken aback by how much I don’t like it. “Look at what you made. You did that.”
My gaze drops, and I take it in, my heart in my throat and my mind spinning. The bowl that was once nothing more than an ornery pile of clay sits upright in the center of the wheel.
And I do too, but barely.
Eleven
Remi
“Tell me again why we didn’t just go to the bar,” I ask, popping the tab on a beer.
We’re in Hollis’s garage because, apparently, grown men with decent incomes still prefer a folding chair and a busted Bluetooth speaker over actual furniture.
“Because this builds character,” he says, feigning offense. “But also, because I didn’t wanna put on jeans.”
Swallowing a mouthful of beer, I chuckle. “Valid. Although, had you told me this was a pajama party, I would’ve worn my fancy jams.”
“Oh, Lord,” Hollis drawls. “Now what in the fuck are‘fancy jams’?”
“Red silk with Daddy Moore’s face all over them, obviously.”
The joke leaves my mouth before I realize what I’m saying. I suck in a breath as my brain catches up. Teasing Hollis about my crush on his dad is nothing new, but after that hot-as-fuck almost-kiss Gentry and I shared the other night, this feels different and…wrong.
I don’t know ifwrongis the right word, per se, but Hollisismy best friend and Gentryishis dad, and I’d imagine he wouldn’t be too thrilled if he knew his best friend planned to be intimately familiar with the taste of his dad’s mouth.
Oops.
“Ha ha,” he deadpans. “Very funny.”
I flash him a toothy grin, trying to push Gentry’s face out of my mind. Spoiler alert: I fail.
Hollis is sprawled back in a camping chair, boots up on the cooler, looking relaxed as all hell. Same guy I’ve known my whole life—loud laugh, terrible advice, and loyal to the bone. He tosses me a bag of chips. “How’s dad life?”
He’s checked in on me nearly every day about Lukas and how he’s settling in. Which I appreciate. I practically walked into this blind and feel like I’m flying by the seat of my pants, so talking everything out with my best friend is comforting. This is really the first time we’ve been able to hang out and catch up in person since Lukas moved in.
Rolling my eyes, I chuckle. “You sound eighty. Spendin’ too much damn time with Ford.”
He flips me off. “I’m serious, man. You took in a whole human. That’s wild.”
I shrug, but I can’t stop the small smile from breaking through. “Well, first of all,dadisn’t correct. Lukas has—had—a dad, and I’ve got big boots to fill. But he’s good. Sassy. A little moody. Eats like a football team.”
“My kinda kid.”
“Did I tell you his grandfather worked on a dairy farm?”
Hollis shakes his head as he takes a pull from his beer. “No, but that’s awesome.”
“Yeah. Lukas used to really enjoy helping out there, I guess. Gentry said I could bring him by this week for a tour. He’s been lookin’ forward to it all week.”
“Hell yeah. I’m sure Dad’ll put him to work.” Hollis pauses, and his brows pinch. “Wait a minute. When did you talk to my dad about that?”
Shit.
“Uh…” My heart thumps. I clear my throat. “Ran into him at the café a few days ago.”
I hate lying to my friend, but I can’t exactly tell him that we talked about it during the secret pottery lessons he knows nothing about, right before we almost made out like a couple of horny teenagers.
Nodding, a smile splits his face. “It was Rueben day, huh?”
