“Settle,” he finishes. “Let some time pass, let the shock pass, and then ask her.”
Artemis nods. “We all know she’s endgame anyway.”
That makes my head snap up from the pile of socks I’ve tipped out of a drawer to my feet. “You do?”
Apollo snorts. “Any woman who didn’t murder you after you took that puck to the face is a keeper.”
Artemis nods again. “We had bets on how long it would take for the police to find your body.”
Apollo points a finger. “And how she was going to kill you.”
I can’t help chuckling. She’s savage when she wants to be, I’m sure they came up with all manner of creative endings to my life force, but she’d still out even their most extreme scenarios.
“I’ve loved her since I met her.”
“Then don’t rush proposing to her. She deserves that moment too.” Artemis picks up another bag by its strap.
He’s not wrong. I owe it to her to propose to her in a way she deserves. On second thought, on the coattails of back-to-back major life traumas probably isn’t the vibe either of us are going for.
CHAPTER 38
Penelope
“She’s staring at her phone again.”
“Someone should take it.”
“Sure, if you want to lose a fucking arm.”
“Penelope?”
My friends are talking around me like I can’t hear them, in this moment, I kinda wish I couldn’t.
“Mm?” In fairness to Athena, Eloise, Edith, and Savannah, I’m here, but also not.
“Your drink’s getting cold.”
They’re not wrong. My hot chocolate’s past the point where it can be called hot anything, it’s just liquid chocolate now.
“I’m sorry you guys. This is the worst impromptu girls’ night ever.”
By chance, we walked in and found Savannah and Athena chatting in a quiet corner of Bitches Brew. Since Edith and I were here, we felt like we couldn’t be here without Eloise and Tori. Tori has plans, but Eloise got here lightning fast.
“We’re here for you.” Eloise leans forward and pats my hand. “You’ve been through a lot.”
Accurate. I have. Tate’s been through more than me, but as Karlya keeps pointing out, just because he’s been through more, doesn’t mean what I’ve been through is irrelevant, or less than.
Since we got here an hour ago, I’ve mostly cried and stared at my screen. I’m on my second lukewarm chocolate beverage, and my friends are staring at me like they’re waiting for me to snap and trash the place.
Huh. Now that the thought’s in my head it’s kind of tempting.
Taryn, the owner of Bitches Brew, would kick me out and never let me back, though, so that’s a no. This place is one of the cornerstones of life with the Raccoons and the... shit, we need a name. What’s a female raccoon called? We can’t call ourselves the Raccettes, cause that sounds like someone’s about to smack us with a tennis racket. Can’t call ourselves Raclettes cause that just makes me want cheese.
“What’s a female raccoon called?”
My friends stare at me like they’re truly concerned for my mental health. Don’t blame them, I’m kind of concerned too.
Edith blinks slowly. “A sow, why?”
