I let that sit. Let it settle in my chest like something warm and a little sharp.
She leans forward again, pointing a chopstick at me. “But seriously—don’t worry about what Leo thinks. The man is a literal Tinder whore. Like, swipes left on people who say ‘dog mom’ and right on anything with cleavage. He has the emotional maturity of a pubescent horn-dog.”
“Charming.”
“Oh, yeah. I may love him like a brother, but I’ve seen the receipts. He’s a walking cautionary tale with a six-pack.”
“And here I was worried he might try to be nice to me.”
“Please. Let him hate you. That’s way safer. Better he glares at you from a distance than tries to fuck you and ruin your life from the inside out.”
I snort and toss a napkin at her.
“You always know how to make a girl feel special.”
She catches it midair with a wink.
“It’s a gift.”
I pause, setting my drink down and tilting my head at her. “Okay, but, how didyouend up in the friend zone with him? I mean, if he’s constantly swiping and emotionally stunted and allergic to commitment, how did you bypass all that and end up as someone he actually trusts?”
Skye grins, then shrugs like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “I told him I’d rather pull out my own IUD with salad tongs than sleep with him.”
My eyes widen. “What?”
“Direct communication, babe. I’m telling you, it workswonders.” She bites into a crab rangoon like she didn’t just drop a conversational bomb.
“No, seriously,” I press. “That was it?”
“That and the fact that I never once gave him the impression he was God’s gift to women. Leo is used to being charming. He knows how to flirt. I shut that shit down on day one and made it crystal clear I wasn’t flattered.”
I lean back, half-impressed.
“And he just... accepted it?”
“Eventually. Pretty sure I threatened to stab him in the balls a few times as well. Probably helps that I always keep that switch blade in my overalls. It made me more interesting to him, I think. Like, once he realized I wasn’t an ego boost or a potential conquest, he let his guard down. He’s better one-on-one than in a crowd. Still a disaster, but, like, a manageable disaster.”
I nod slowly, absorbing that. “So the trick is emotional detachment and thinly veiled threats of bodily harm.”
“Thinly veiled? Try direct.”
She lifts her glass toward me. “To healthy boundaries.”
We clink our glasses together with a soft laugh, and for the first time in weeks, I feel just a little more grounded.
FOUR
TORI
Past
Skye, 9:46 a.m.: Do we want nosebleed seats or should I try for something on the floor?
Tori, 9:46 a.m.: Floor, obviously. We’ve been waiting for this tour since we were twelve. Is Alis cool with floor seats?
Skye, 9:46 a.m.: True. And she doesn’t care. You know her—she’s whatever.
Tori, 9:46 a.m.: Does she even want to go?
