Bill was resting at my feet as I stood near the island. I knelt and gave him a rub behind the ears in the spot I’d deemed his favorite when we’d bonded at the hospital. He yawned with a grateful whine, tongue lolling.
Wanting to remain in Sybil’s orbit, I made my way into thefront room and chose a seat right next to her. I feigned interest in Bee’s handiwork as I sat down on the cushions, my weight causing her to lean toward me a little.
I didn’t care that there was more than enough room on the couch. This spot was my only option. A man like me wasn’t shy about his intentions. My knee brushed against hers. Sybil didn’t flinch away, though she tensed a little before letting herself relax, her thigh against mine.
Lacing my fingers in front of me, I forced myself not to reach out and touch her leg. Her gravity pulled me toward her at all times, like an energetically charged need to flow as one.
“Wow,” I said, a little flat. “Nice color choice.”
Bee smirked. It was a knowing smirk, and it confirmed my suspicions that she was indeed playing games. She knew red was my favorite color. “Okay, we’ve picked out several movies. Can you believe Sybil has never seenBeerfest?”
Sybil giggled with a shrug, a sound that sent a current of energy through our touching knees and right to the center of my ribcage.
“Comedies never really did it for me,” she said in defense. “The only ones I ever enjoyed were theAustin Powersones, but I saw those with Cat. She was obsessed with the seventies vibe. It was her era. But after I moved out, watching comedies alone didn’t make me laugh. If anything, they were depressing.”
Bee guffawed. “That’s because you have to watch them with someone, for sure. Comedies make little sense unless you’re with friends—everyone feeds off the laughter.”
“She’s right,” I added.
“Nash, I need you to run to the bodega and get champagne and beer. We can’t watchBeerfestwithout beer.”
She had a point.
“And also, like… soft pretzels, cheese dip, all that kind of stuff,” she added.
“And Skittles,” Sybil chimed in. “Please?”
Herpleasenearly killed me.
I shifted in my seat. “I think you forget we have work tomorrow,” I reminded Bee.
Bee shushed me.“Fuck work. I’m due for a day off. You can be all goody two-shoes, but I’m sleeping in and having fun. After the weekend we’ve had? It’s owed.”
I chuckled and leaned back, stretching my arms along the back of the couch and behind Sybil’s head. The sound of a day off felt good. It’d been years since I allowed myself a break.
Sybil’s scent fell over me—lavender and chamomile. “I could take calls from home,” I thought out loud.
Sybil craned her neck to look up at me from her position in the crook of my arm. Her gaze, full of hope, trailed over my face, a smile on her lips. She fluttered her eyelashes, and her irises glittered.
She cemented my decision with that look. I was officially staying home. Her thigh pressed further into mine as she turned back, as though she saw the decision on my face. I don’t think she meant to press into me like that, but I liked it.
Calls to auction patrons were going to have to happen, but I could do it from home. My father wouldn’t mind, especially if I told him why. He’d always put my mother first, and wouldn’t hesitate in allowing me to do the same once I explained thesituation.
“Then it’s settled. You hit the bodega while we shower and put on pajamas.”
I grumbled, head falling back. “Please don’t tell me you got matching ones.” I recalled her comment to me from a while back about matching pajamas and blanket forts. “Bee, you didn’t.”
She couldn’t hide her enthusiasm. “I did! But not for you, grumpy asshole, so calm down.”
Sybil looked amused.“Matchingpajamas?”Her exploratory excitement was a balm to Bee’s over-the-top exuberance. They balanced each other well.
Bee looked up, pride on her face over Sybil’s reaction. “I told you we were gonna be besties, and you loved the idea of twinning before. Trust me. They’re comfy. Nothing weird, I promise. I’m gonna give you a crash course in what it means to have a best friend. Consider this lesson number one. Best friends get matching pajamas. It’s a must.”
Sybil blushed, looking rueful.
“Sorry, girl, but you have little choice in the matter. I have chosen you, and you’re stuck with me now,” Bee added. “Don’t make me lock you in the basement, because I will if I have to.”
Sybil seemed to glow at her obsessive admission. Feeling wanted was something I’m sure she struggled with. Again, Bee was making sure she was comfortable, and that she knew she wasn’t a burden.
