Page 37 of Love in the Time of Conversation Hearts

“Hello? Earth to Cora?”

I blink rapidly, then frown at Lauren’s hand—which is waving within inches of my nose—and rear back so she doesn’t slice my face with her pinky finger.

“What?” I snap, though I immediately feel bad about it. It’s not Lauren’s fault I practically have whiplash going from some of the best sex of my life, to thinking Adam was serious enough about me to disclose our relationship to Sturge, to somehow having to wrap my head around watching other women bid actual money to take him on a date. On my favorite night of the year, no less. And the fact that it all happened in less than twenty-four hours has my brain spinning.

“Woah.” Lauren frowns at me as she withdraws her hand. “What is going on with you?”

“Nothing,” I say with a quick, probably unconvincing smile. “I’m just tired. Can we finalize these plans so I can go home and sleep?” Or eat three quarts of ice cream and wallow alone.

“Are you tired because Mayor Skinny Jeans kept you up all night?” Charlie’s eyebrows bounce up and down. She’s currently lounging in her favorite position—sprawled sideways over an armchair. We met at Lauren’s place tonight instead of mine because Harrison insisted on having my house to himself since he so graciously left Adam and me alone last night. Who even knows what Harrison needed the whole house for. Probably to play video games alone in a dark room or something.

I purse my lips at Charlie. “I am not dignifying that with a response.”

A self-satisfied smile curls upward on her dark-painted lips. “Your lack of denial is all the response I need. Was it as Earth-shattering as that night in the hotel, or was it even better?”

The last thing I need right now is to give Adam Sullivan even more brain space than he’s already taken up. It was fun while it lasted, and now it’s over. Which was all it was supposed to be, anyway. It’s not my fault Adam had to keep weaseling his way into my feelings with coffee delivery and chiseled abs and those smoky gray eyes that have been living rent-free in my head all afternoon.

Exasperated at those eyes coming to the forefront of my consciousness yet again, I throw up my hands. They meet my thighs in a loud slap. “You know what? I didn’t come here to get grilled about my love life. Can we just finish the fundraiser prep, please?”

Lauren quietly excuses herself to the kitchen. Aubrey tilts her head and regards me with a furrowed brow. Charlie swings her legs around so she’s sitting up straight, leaning forward slightly. When Lauren re-enters the room, presses a glass of pinot into my hand, and sits cross-legged on the couch next to me, I know they’re all getting ready to stage an intervention.

Just then, Dorothy bursts through the front door, a gust of cold air on her heels. “Sorry I’m late,” she huffs, breathless from the cold. “What did I miss?”

Charlie, Aubrey, and Lauren eye each other, eyebrows raised. But it’s Charlie who speaks up. “Oh, nothing much,” she sing-songs. “We were just trying to figure out what’s got Cora’s panties in a bunch, and we’re pretty sure it’s Mister Mayor.”

I narrow my eyes at her as I raise my glass of wine to take a large sip, but her answering grin doesn’t falter.

“Oh,” Dorothy breathes as she hangs her scarf and coat on the hook in the front entrance. “So you were doing the hanky-panky in his car last night.”

I just about choke on my wine. Lauren pats my back unhelpfully as I cough and pound my chest to dislodge the liquid from my lungs.

Aubrey’s eyes go wide. She takes the glass of wine from me and sets it on the table. Charlie at least tries to hide her chuckle behind her hand.

“How…?” I trail off. I’m certainly not going to admit to anything, even though I am curious where her intel is coming from.

Dorothy waves a hand if this is as big a deal as a sale on Valentine’s Day candy the day after the holiday. “Sherry—your neighbor? Anyway, she told Karen who told me at the shop today that she saw you get in the mayor’s car, and it was a while before you left. You know how those old birds jump to conclusions. I didn’t believe her, of course.” Her eyes twinkle mischievously as she chews on the corner of her mouth. “But I’m starting to rethink my original assumption.”

“Please tell us you fucked Mayor Adam on his heated leather seats.” Charlie is all in now, her body angled sharply toward me and her eyebrows shooting up her forehead.

Nostrils flaring, I take in a deep, frustrated breath. Thankfully, Lauren jumps in before I can say anything incriminating.

“That is none of our business,” she says diplomatically.

Aubrey nods curtly and lays a warm hand on my knee. “Something is clearly bothering you,” she says quietly. “We’re here for you if you want to talk about it. But we can drop it if you’d rather.” She shoots Charlie a pointed glance.

I take a second to look at my friends’ faces. They’re earnest and open. They want to help, that much is clear. Even Charlie looks like she could maybe murder Adam if I told her that’s what I wanted. Which is frightening, but also sweet in her own way. I don’t know what I did to get so lucky to have such wonderful friends who want to be there for me even after I bit their heads off for no reason. I let my anger at Adam seep into this meeting, but even despite that, they are all clearly here for me.

I take in another deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling much calmer with them surrounding me. “Adam and I…” What? Had a couple of super hot nights together? Were maybe starting to be something more? “We slept together. Again. But it was more than that. Or at least, I thought it was. He delivered me coffee. Asked me on a real date.”

Aubrey practically swoons. Dorothy nods approvingly. Lauren’s hand finds the tense place between my shoulders, and she rubs it as if she knows the other shoe is about to drop.

“But then he volunteered to take Gareth’s place in the date auction,” I say in a woosh, as if trying to get the words out before they leave a bad taste in my mouth.

The women stare at me, unblinking. Waiting. Funny, I thought they’d be just as irritated at that as I was.

“That’s it?” Charlie asks, leaning back in the armchair, clearly disappointed.

I pinch my brows together. “What do you mean, ‘that’s it?’ Everyone knows you don’t volunteer for the date auction if you have a date!” I exclaim.