Nope.
This is better.
Much better.
I unlock the door and pull it open.
Carla stands there on my mat looking fantastic. Her hair is loose and wavy around her shoulders. She’s in a soft pink sundress. Her skin is doing that thing where it glows from the inside.
“Did I wake you?” she asks, her eyes skimming over me.
I nod.
“Why were you still sleeping?” She’s already stepping past me into the hall, carrying two enormous takeaway cups and a brown paper bag that smells like heaven. “It’s after eleven, Robyn. You’re never asleep this late. What’s going on?” She turns, frowning. “Are you sick?”
“I was reading in bed,” I say, closing the door behind her. “I must have fallen asleep with the book on my face. It’s my day off, Carla. I don’t get many of those. I was planning a very slow start. How did you get into the apartment?”
“The old lady from down the hall let me in.”
“I’ll have to have a talk with her.”
“Funny.” Carla smiles. “For a second there, I thought…you might be coming down with something. I brought breakfast.” She lifts the bag. “There are pastries in here. I got those almondcroissants you love, and apain au chocolat,in case you wanted to switch things up.”
I press a hand to my chest. “Marry me. You are the best.”
She laughs. “I would, but I don’t swing that way. These are the mega-sized coffees. I may or may not have ordered myself a double shot.”
I take one of the cups from her, and the warmth of it in my hands is an instant comfort.
“You’re a queen,” I tell her.
“I know, I know.” She pauses, and some of the glow dims into something more careful. “Listen. I owe you an apology.”
“For?”
“For last night. For leaving you. I feel awful about it, Robyn. I should have stayed. You were my plus-one, and I bailed on you. I keep thinking about it, and I feel terrible. I really shouldn’t?—”
“Carla, stop. It’s fine. I told you last night that I was fine, and I meant it.”
For a second, I consider telling her about Ridge, but change my mind. It’s not something I would normally do.
I’m going to forget it ever happened. Carla wouldn’t let me hear the end of it.
“It’s not fine. I’m supposed to be the responsible one on girls’ nights.”
“You are never the responsible one.” I smile.
“Well, no. But still.”
I’m already laughing, waving her off with the hand that isn’t holding coffee. “Really. Don’t worry about it. It was all good. I made it home in one piece.” It isn’t a lie. I did. “Forget about it. I want to hear about you. How did it go?”
Her whole face transforms.
“Oh, my wooooorrrrd.”
“That good?”
“Robyn.” She clutches at her chest.
