“They sure are,” Claire pipes up. “He’s currently apologizing with orgasms.”
“Nice,” I chuckle. “Definitely preferable to all those apology pizzas he was bringing you when he first moved home.”
“I happen to like pizza, thank you very much. And you’re just jealous,” she exclaims, pointing at Claire.
“You’re right, I am.” Claire snickers, resting the side of her head on the back of the couch.
“How was your road trip last night?” Megan’s eyes meet mine over the rim of her cup before she takes a sip of her hot tea.
“It was good,” I say, letting my gaze pass over them. “The hotel is beautiful, and the bar was a lot of fun. The music was great.”
“I heard you had a friend join you,” she says, rolling her lips in to suppress her smile.
“Seriously?” My eyes widen. First April and now Megan. I really don’t need all of them questioning Ryan’s and my…friendship?
“What friend?” Claire questions, pulling her blanket closer to her chin.
Before I can answer, Meg leans forward and says, “Ryan was there. Apparently, he is good friends with the owner.”
“I haven’t even been back in Emerley for two hours, Meg.” Crinkling my nose, I ask, “How do you know?” Grabbing a second cookie off the tray, I take a bite.
“April texted me this morning,” she says simply.
Since when did April and Meg become best buddies? They barely know each other.
“Oh my God.” Claire closes her eyes and rubs her temples. “Let me guess. He spent the night scowling at you, and you antagonized him on purpose. The pair of you can’t be in the same room sometimes.”
“No, no, it was nothing like that. I can’t speak for him, but I had a really nice time. I promise I was on my very best behaviour. Cross my heart,” I say, making an X over my chest.
Could I tell them we shared some intimate moments at the bar? Yeah. Or that we shared a hotel room, and I woke up with him attached to me like a spider monkey and with a hard dick? Sure. Am I going to? Nope. That would only lead to even more questions.
I wonder if Vaughan told April about my missing room key or if he kept that to himself. I know I’m not going to bring it up.
Since Ryan didn’t mention the bar or our sleeping arrangement on the drive home, I’m going to assume it didn’t affect him as much as it has affected me. We can just return to the status quo and continue to annoy one another now that we are home.
“Beck and Ryan have spent a lot of time together this week,” Meg continues. “He drove her to town every morning, and he even sent lunch to her at work. I feel like there is a romance brewing.”
“Knock it off,” I give her a warning. “He sent me lunch one time; he was just being nice. There is no romance—trust me.”
“Oh, I need to hear more about this.” Claire perks up a little.
“This information should have been immediately shared in the group chat,” Hannah scolds me playfully. “Especially since you denied there was anything going on between you two when I asked you on Thanksgiving.”
I forgot Hannah thought she caught a moment between us when we arrived. It was no big deal; my hands were full, and he pushed hair away from my face. I should have just told her Ryanpicked me up, but I got flustered when she asked if we came together. It’s not my fault he was equally awkward.
“There’s nothing going on and there’s no information to share,” I insist, shaking my head.
“Come on, let me have this,” Meg groans dramatically. “My house has been romance-free for months.”
We all turn to her and wait silently. Megan married her high school sweetheart, Jeff, right after graduation. Over the years, she put many of her dreams aside while Jeff continued to pursue his. She doesn’t talk about it very much, but it has become clear over the last several months that she’s unhappy. Too many empty promises and unexpected absences. I suspect there is more to it, but she hasn’t confided in any of us. I would be a hypocrite to ask more of her than I’m willing to give. We all have secrets, sometimes even from each other.
“Did something happen?” Hannah asks Meg with concern, resting her hand on her foot.
“Actually, I have barely seen him this week,” she says, looking down into her mug. “You know how it is. He’s busy with a big case right now, so he’s working late nights and staying in the city. It’s fine.” She gives us all a weak smile, trying to reassure us.
“Is it, though?” I ask gently. “You spend a lot of time at home alone.”
“No, it is.” She waves us off. “It gives me all kinds of extra time to work at the bookstore. Therefore, more money to buy more books. What more does a girl want? Except for a rolling ladder, of course.”
