I step in closer to Thad, feeling weirdly protective. Or maybe that’s not the right word. Maybe it’s more likepossessive. I know we’re just friends, but I do not like the idea of a bunch of sorority girls ogling Thad’s body and acting like he belongs to them because it’stheirshow.
“The girls are gonna lose their shit when they hear about this!” Cassie half whispers to the other one, then turns back to us. “Are you heading to New Orleans?” She gives me a quick, appraising look. “Is this your girlfriend?”
My mouth runs dry, but before I can say anything, Thad slips his hand into the back pocket of my jeans and pulls me up against his side. “Yep. This is my girlfriend, Helen.”
I know he’s only saying that to keep the sorority girls from fighting over him like he’s the last big-screen TV on Black Friday. I know it doesn’t mean anything. But feeling our bodies pressed together (and his hand on my butt!)…hearing him say that I’m his girlfriend…it makes me feel something. Something I know I shouldn’t be feeling, but there you go.
Cassie appraises me for a moment longer before nodding. “She’s so much better than Vera. I can’t believe what she did to you. What a bitch.”
Weirdly, it makes me warm to the girl. I mean, not that she called Vera a b-i-t-c-h—I don’t like that language, and we’re all children of God, after all—but knowing they really are in Thad’s corner, even if they might still try to rip off his shirt if they get a chance. I smile back at them as a new idea starts to form in my mind. “She really is, isn’t she? And to answer your earlier question, wearegoing to New Orleans. It’s pretty urgent, actually.” I lower my voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Thad’s on a case.”
Thad shifts against me. “Helen,” he starts warningly.
I ignore him, still grinning at the girls, who look absolutely thrilled that they’ve been let in on this secret. “I really hate to ask this, but…you don’t happen to have any extra room in your car, do you?”
It’s a long shot, but you never know. It doesn’t hurt to ask, and sometimes the good Lord does provide.
Cassie and her friend exchange a glance. “Well, we do, but…it’s not really a car.”
She motions back to a vehicle parked at the far end of the parking lot—a party bus, absolutely teeming with sorority girls.
…which is how I wind up in a party bus full of singing and dancing sorority girls, on my way to New Orleans, sitting on Thad’s lap.
Sitting on Thad’s lap. Just in case you missed that part.
Turns out there are very few actual seats on a party bus. Most of the space is taken up by the minibar, the stripper pole (dear Lord), and a space for a large-screen TV. In Thad’s honor, the girls put on episodes ofBama Bountystreaming in the background.
The girls are all pretty sweet, if a little overexcited to get to be near Thad. Most of them are already doubled up in the seats, which doesn’t seem all that safe to me, but I’m trying very hard not to give off mom vibes and so I’ve refrained from commenting on it. A few offered to double up with Thad, too, but between his image on the jumbo TV screen and a few girls suggesting more than once that he can totally use the stripper pole if he wants, Thad has become the equivalent of a human turtle, withdrawing into his shell as much as possible.
“I’ll sit with Helen,” he speaks up quickly after the third seat-buddy offer gets made. “My girlfriend, Helen.”
I know he’s only using me as a shield because he’s scared of the boisterous twentysomethings, but I still feel stupidly giddy every time he refers to me ashis. And yes, I know this man only sees me as a friend, a sad little ex-nun who needed a little boost of sexual confidence. My mind knows this, but my heart does not care. It is programmed to be entirely too responsive to Thad, and I don’t know how to access the factory reset.
Thad’s quite a bit larger than the itty-bitty sorority girls who are doubling up on each seat, and my bottom is also no size 0, so we aren’t doubling up so much as I am in this man’s lap. I sit sideways with my legs across him, my left arm pressed to his chest, and I can feel the faint rhythm of his heart beating against me, his warm breath stirring my hair. I am aware of every single part of us that is touching—one of his hands on my leg, my thighs pressed against his. The side of my bottom is pressed up against his groin, my breasts roughly at his eye level, coming dangerously close to smashing into his face every time the bus jolts or moves too quickly, and I’m doing my best not to think about last night, that intense look in his eyes as he ground his hard erection against my panties…the groan he made when his hands closed over my naked breasts…
No, Helen. No. Pure thoughts. I start mentally reciting the lineage of Abraham, which is the least sexy thing I can think of and will hopefully take my mind off Thad’s body and just where it’s touching mine.
Abraham, Isaac, Jacob and Esau, Reuben, Simeon, Gad, Asher…
“So how did y’all meet?”
It takes me a moment to realize the question is being addressed to me. Twenty pairs of young eyes watch me expectantly, waiting for my answer.
“Oh, well…” I’m not a great liar. If there’s a clear purpose in sight, like sweet-talking my way onto a party bus, I can sometimes manage it, but lying just for the sake of lying has never been my strong suit. Even before I was a sister, if I did something that I knew would upset my parents, I would just give myself up before they even had the chance to question me, knowing it was a fruitless endeavor. I can’t fathom lying to these girls and actually managing to be convincing about it, but the thought of admitting that I was untruthful feels absolutely mortifying.
Plus, then they’ll all know that Thad and I aren’t actually a couple, and I really don’t want to see the knowing looks on their faces when they figure out the whole thing was just a sham. They’re probably too Southern and polite to say it outright, but I’m sure the looks on their faces will clearly say,Bless her soul, but she didn’treallythink we bought them as a couple, did she?
“We actually—” I start, but Thad cuts me off.
“Helen’s a librarian, up in Chicago. I went into her library to get some information about a case, but once I saw her, I just kept going back. At one point I was pretending to read about a book a day before I finally got the nerve to ask her out. Just so I could have the chance to see her.”
The hand he still has resting on my leg squeezes just above my knee, and I relax a little. I should have known that being a good bounty hunter translated into being a good liar, too. A lot of what he’s said is true, but he’s spinning it so it sounds much more romantic than it actually was.
The girls aww approvingly at Thad’s story. “I pretend to read all the time for my American Lit class, too,” one girl chimes in, a little too enthusiastically, earning her a few laughs.
Cassie, the only girl whose name I know, leans forward in her seat. “What was it about her that drew you to her?”
I tense, feeling myself prematurely growing embarrassed at the thought of him having to scramble to come up with an answer. Beyond the obviousHer proximity to her brother,that is. “I don’t?—”
