“I am happy,” I said.
Which was true.
I was.
Just… not in the way she expected.
Lark crossed her arms, tilting her head at me like she was trying to figure out a puzzle.“That wasn’t ‘I’m happy,’” she said.“That was ‘I’m pretending I’m happy.’”
I snorted, setting the scoops in the sink and turning on the water.“I’m realistic.”
“Uh-huh,” she said slowly.“Do you like him?”
“Yes,” I answered immediately.Too immediately.
Lark’s brows lifted.“Okay,” she said.“You said that like you were answering a multiple-choice question you didn’t study for.”
I rolled my eyes, grabbing the soap.“I like him.”
She hummed, unconvinced.“Does this have anything to do with Mr.Free Milkshakes?”she asked.
I laughed, shaking my head.“No.”
Earlier, I had told her everything.
About the flat tire.
About Jude showing up.
About him refusing my money and somehow walking away with a deal for unlimited milkshakes instead.
She had been way too excited about that part.
“I like Jesse,” I said, more evenly this time.“I just don’t want to get myself too hyped up.”
Lark made a small hmph noise but didn’t push it.Which, coming from her, was basically a miracle.“Fine,” she said.“Be realistic.”
“I will.”
We fell into the rhythm of closing.
Lights dimmed.
Machines shut down.
Surfaces wiped.
The normal end-of-day routine was familiar.
Lark finished her side of things first and grabbed her purse.“I’m heading out,” she said.“Don’t stay too long.”
“I won’t.”
She paused at the door, looking back at me.“For what it’s worth,” she added, “he did come just to see you.”
“I know,” I said.
She nodded once and left.
