“Oh, come on,” I say, laughing. “You were relieved just now.”
“What? Me? No, I wasn’t.”
“You had a strange look in your eye the last time I brought up Jeff,” I say. “Don’t act like you didn’t.”
He faces me. “Oh, you mean the look like the one you have written all over your pretty little face when anyone brings up Lora?”
“We’re not talking about her,” I say, wagging a finger through the air.
This amuses him. “And why not?”
“Because Lora isn’t gay, and Lora wanted my husband. And even though I’m sure she’ll sit elsewhere at church—because I’ll be sitting beside you now—I still don’t want to talk about her.”
He pulls me into his chest and smiles down at me. The corners of his lips stretch from ear to ear as if he’s aware of a secret that I don’t know. I wait, thinking he’ll tell me why he looks so happy.
“What?” I ask, furrowing my brows when it becomes clear that he’s not going to explain himself.
He doesn’t answer. He only kisses me.Strange man.
“We’re going to have to work on your responses,” I say. “We have a little miscommunication happening.”
“We do not.”
“I just asked you what you were smiling about, and you just kissed me.”
He laughs. “Trust me, if you want to answer every question I have with a kiss, I’m fine with it.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out to see a number that I don’t recognize.
“That’s weird,” I say, opening my text app.
“Who is it?” Hartley asks.
“I don’t know.” But then I read the text and giggle. “It’s from Astrid, Gianna, and Audrey.” I quickly figure out which number belongs to who and save them to my contacts list.
Astrid: Hey! We figure the odds are good that we’ll all be hanging out a lot soon (unless you don’t like us). So we started a group text.
Audrey: I’m so excited to get to know you better.
Gianna: Yeah, yeah, yeah. Me, too. So how was the sex?
I burst out laughing.
“What?” Hartley asks.
“I …” I laugh again. “It’s … Gianna.”That’s explanation enough.
“Say no more.” He makes a face. “Do you have boxes anywhere?”
I nod. “Jeff brought some up for me yesterday. He probably tossed them in my bedroom.”
“I feel good about him being in your bedroom knowing he hasClint.”
“Yes. He likes Clints, not clits,” I say, grinning.
Hartley’s eyes hood ever so slightly.
“Keep looking at me that way …” I say, “and we won’t get out of here until dark.”
