“Oh. Well … I mean, I’m not sorry.”
My mouth popped open, brows stitched together. “You bitch.”
“What? I’m not,” she said smartly, folding her arms. “He agreed that zero missed orgasms was the gold standard for men who aren’t assholes.”
I groaned, pressing my hands to my face for one brief moment of privacy. “I cannot believe you.”
“Really?” she challenged.
Another groan. My hands dropped to my sides, and I straightened up, not taking her traitor arm again. She could waddle on her own.
“Oh, come on, Lila.”
I kept walking, knowing she couldn’t keep up.
“Wait up. I’m sorry, okay?”
At that, I stopped, turning in wait for the rest, one brow cocked.
“I’m just … I’m so fucking mad at Brock. It’s no secret I’ve always hated him—”
I snorted a laugh at the understatement.
“But Lila, what he did is unforgivable and on so many levels. I’m just mad. And it made me mad that Tess didn’t automatically agree with me. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I’m sorry.”
I sighed, softening at her expression, which was mushy and looked like she might cry. “It’s all right. But if you could maybe refrain from discussing my orgasms with Kash Bennet, that would be great.”
She sniffled, smiling. “Deal.”
Linking arms again, we started for the pizza window. I could already smell the garlic, and my tastebuds exploded in anticipation.
“Have you thought about a rebound?” she asked carefully.
“I haven’t even thought about where I’m going to live, never mind dating.”
“Nobody said date,” she defended. “But maybe dick is more important right now than a permanent address.”
“Oh my God.”
“What? You know I’m not wrong. It doesn’t have to be serious or anything, just a romp. A frolic. A cavorting rollick with an uncomplicated penis.”
“Ivy,” I said on a laugh. “Stop it.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’ve always underestimated the power of a good, frisky roll in the hay. I mean, we even have literal hay in storage at the greenhouse.”
I gave her a look.
“I’m just saying,” she insisted innocently, “that you have options.”
The look didn’t quit.
“And that getting some hot beef could solve a lot of your problems.”
“Like what?”
“Like … you could relax. Blow off steam. Loosen up. Live a little. You might even laugh. Like, unprompted. It could be a medical miracle: a solid injection of vitamin D, and you’re a brand new woman. Take it from a retired floozy—what you need, my dear sister, is a rebound.”
Unbidden, the vision of Kash leaning on his shovel with that smirk on his face filled my thoughts. For a moment, I fantasized about him taking off his shirt, imagining the naked truth of his musculature. Imagined him licking those wide lips of his, imagined the scent of him, the warmth of him, the strength of his arms, the breadth of his hands. His lips would be soft and demanding all at once, hot and slick and—
“Oh, they have supreme today!” Ivy cheered, yanking me out of my reverie and into the line. “God, it must be my lucky day. Come on, Lila. You’re gonna get the spicy sausage, aren’t you?” She waggled her brows, prompting a too-loud laugh from me and a couple of glances for disturbing the pizza peace.
“I’ll take all the sausage, please.”
11
At Your Service
LILA
The day was eternal.
Meetings stacked on meetings, including a rush to sit with the Femmes through band auditions, which all five of them had opposing opinions on, resulting in zero choices made. To top it off, fall was in full effect—it had rained all day, resulting in filthy shoes and my ankles dotted with muck despite my constant attention. I’d donned my knee-length peacoat, the deep emerald hiding proof of dirt and protecting the white pencil skirt and tailored shirt I’d decided on today, a risky choice given the weather circumstance.
Four days had passed since I’d seen Kash, my longest stretch away from the shop in weeks. I wondered immediately why I’d kept count. Maybe it was because I was on my way to Longbourne, though I was set to meet Tess—Kash probably wouldn’t even be there. I wouldn’t admit under duress that I hoped he was, but I did hope. It was stupid and probably irresponsible, but I wanted to see him.
Those days without seeing him had crawled by at the speed of a legless zombie.
I sighed, using a baby wipe from my bag to clean off my shoes and ankles again. The cab rumbled along, radio tinny and distant through the little plexiglass window, rain pinging the roof, brushed from the windshield in rhythmic sweeps. The sound lulled me, exhaustion blooming in my chest, creeping down my arms to draw me into sleep.
My fatigue was total, existing well beyond the physical. It necessitated a lot of energy to pretend like I was fine, like my life hadn’t been turned inside out like a lonely, errant sock. I longed to have a place where I could be alone just as much as the thought of being alone terrified me. Without the need to hold myself together for the sake of those around me, I worried I’d slip into a state I couldn’t control.
The taxi swung toward the curb outside Longbourne, and as I paid, I weighed my options on how to get from the cab to the shop efficiently. My umbrella seemed a silly choice just for the few feet to the door, but my hair would appreciate it, since I’d made a secondary poor choice to leave it down today. Then again, I’d be heading straight for a hot shower from here, and I’d only be inside for a few minutes, just long enough to get Tess to sign the liability forms for a venue and to approve a scope of work agreement we’d finally completed.
Umbrellaless it was.
I gathered my bag and umbrella, taking a breath to brace myself before opening the door and stepping out. As quickly as I could, I got both feet on the curb, turning to shut the door before bolting toward the shop. I was nearly in the inset threshold when a sheet of water overran the gutter and fell like a curtain on me.
I froze in shock, furious and freezing and soaked with filthy rainwater, hair dripping and coat a sponge. One breath, slow and controlled, and I found my wits, stepping into the nook to open the door to the shop, marked with a Closed sign. The sound of rain was muffled when I closed the door, the bell ting-a-linging cheerily, mocking me. Rain patted the tiled floor as I stood in the dark shop in icy indignation.
I headed to the back, frozen to the bone, peering back into the workspace for Tess. My only thought beyond my state of undoing was how desperate I was to put this day to bed and move on. Surely, I’d feel better after a hot shower and a good night’s sleep. Surely, tomorrow would be better.
“Hello?” I called, twisting my cold hair into a rope, wringing it out as I walked toward the back.
“Back here,” a deep baritone voice that was definitely not Tess’s called.
I faltered but kept trucking to the back, hoping I could find something to dry my hands off with so I could extract the paperwork from my leather attaché without ruining it. Swiftly and as a diversion, I counted the minutes until I could leave, teeth chattering while I tallied it up. Twelve minutes should do the trick with time to spare.