“Yeah, I don’t want to.”
Okay, was hoping she’d answer that differently.
“Ugh, Ruthie, you’re killing me. You know I like to know everything that’s happening in this town.”
“Yeah, and you have a big mouth too.”
“True, but I would keep your secret.” I clutch my heart. “You’re special to me, and the people who are special to me are the ones who—”
“Aren’t you the one who informs the town of all the things happening with your brothers?”
Mouth agape, I sit a little taller and say, “That’s the brother tax. Being the youngest, it’s my duty to be a nuisance after the torture they put me through growing up. Secrets don’t count with brothers.”
“Yeah, I’m not trusting you.”
“That hurts,” I say playfully. “You’re truly cutting me deep, Ruthie.”
“Pretty sure you’ll survive.” She holds up the whoopie pie, a smile playing on her lips as she says, “You’ll never taste a better one.”
We’ll see about that. I have it on good authority who makes the best whoopie pies ever. Well, I don’t really know the person, but I do know she wears red lipstick and enjoys kissing paper just for me.
“Pretty sure I had the best whoopie pie of my life the other day.” I bring the whoopie pie to my mouth. “But I’ll . . . oh damn, is that peanut butter frosting in the middle?” She nods, her eyes looking eager, her body leaning forward. “It’s really fucking good. Wow, so soft and, the chocolate. Hell . . .” I take another bite. “This is approved. Must have on the menu.” I lick my fingers clean, pulling my lips over my long digits. “You know what’s funny? That girl I’ve been talking to, she likes peanut butter in the middle of her whoopie pies too.”
“Oh, is that right?” Ruth says, her voice taking on a sarcastic tone.
“Yeah, she sent me some the other day, not with peanut butter, but man, they tasted just like this. Ha, what if you know her? That would be funny.”
“What’s her name?”
“Uh,” I awkwardly laugh. “You know, since you’re keeping your secret man to yourself, I’m going to keep my lady to myself as well.”
“That’s fair.” She passes it off as if it’s no big deal.
“Nooo, you’re supposed to beg me to know who this girl is that I’m talking about.”
“Not interested.” She picks up one of the mini cakes and pops it into her mouth.
Also not a response I was expecting. How could she be so casual about this? Isn’t she even faintly curious? I know I am. I want to know who this guy is and why the hell she hasn’t made a move on him yet.
Instead of fixating on it though, I shove a mini cake in my mouth as well. When the sweet and bold flavors glide over my tongue, I groan in satisfaction. “Goddamn, woman, this is good. You know what?” I shake my head vehemently. “This isn’t going to work out.”
“What’s not going to work out?” she asks in confusion.
“You being next door.” I pick up another cake and pop it into my mouth like it’s popcorn. “I’m going to eat everything, and I’m trying to maintain my physique here.”
“Maybe you should pick up a different workout partner then, someone who isn’t just starting.”
“Oh, fuck no.” I point at her. “Nice try, Ruthie, but you’re not getting off that easily. Although, given how long it’s been since you’ve been with someone, you might get off easily.”
Her face flattens as she folds her arms over her chest. “At least I don’t fall down Arousal Avenue when one of my friends straddles me.”
“For Christ’s sake . . . it was an accident.”
She chuckles and holds out her scone. “This is best with jam and clotted cream.” And just like that, her smile is back, her carefree spirit matches mine, and I feel our souls aligned again. And I think I’ve found my new best friend.
“So, who’s this guy Ruthie’s been crushing on for years?” I say, leaning over the counter of Snow Roast while Rylee, Beck, and Ruth clean up for the night.
It’s been a few days since the boner incident and every day I’ve seen Ruth, she’s asked if her clothes were too revealing, saying she didn’t want to arouse me again.
Fucking smart-ass.
Just so you know, no. I wasn’t aroused . . . at least not every day. There’s this one sports bra she purchased. It’s hot pink and does a shit job of limiting the bounce in her boobs, and from my peripheral vision, all I could see was her bouncing tits. Yeah, it got to me a little.
At least I’m honest about it.
When you have a boobie friend, it’s hard not to notice things like that.
Rylee and Beck both pause what they’re doing and look at Ruthie. They have that deer in the headlights look on their faces.
Just as I suspected. They know who it is. I pull out my wallet and retrieve two white cards with red lettering. I wave them at Rylee and Beck and say, “Two free half pounds of fudge at The Lobster Landing for whoever spills the deets. Lucky for you two, you’re married, so only one of you has to be a betraying friend. I choose Rylee, since Beck is an employee and all.”
Ignoring me, Rylee turns to Ruth and says, “Uh, you told Brig you’ve had a crush on someone for years?”
Working on her computer, catching up on some accounting, she says, “Yeah, but I didn’t tell him who it was so keep your mouths shut.”
“Oh, that’s amazing,” Rylee says, laughing.
“Shut up, Rylee.”
“Ohhh, I can sense some tension. Please, someone misstep and tell me who it is. My guess is Oliver. Am I right? Beck, if it’s Oliver, blink twice.” He blinks, but I’m not sure if it’s to answer my question or not. “Was that a double blink? Dude, you’re going to have to be less discreet than that. Slow down for Papa and really make the blinks distinct.”
“Beck, go to the back and wrap up anything that needs to be put away,” Ruth bellows from the side.
He doesn’t even spare me a glance, but instead flings a towel over his shoulder and heads to the back.
“Hey, I was just getting somewhere with him.” Turning to Rylee now, I ask, “Is it Oliver?”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Rylee,” Ruth snaps at her friend.
“Do I know him?”
“Oh, you sure do,” Rylee says with a mischievous smile.
“Rylee, back. Now,” Ruth snaps once again, using her finger to point to where she wants her friend to go.
“No, don’t take her away too.” Rylee walks to the back, giving me a grimace, and leaves me with Ruth. “Why do you hate me?”
“Why do you care so much who this guy is?”
“Because . . . I . . .”
Why do I care? I mean, I like gossip as much as the next person, but I’m feeling surprisingly persistent at the moment, and I don’t think I’d be this persistent with anyone else.
Plus, it’s my duty as her friend, I need to know these things. Maybe I can help her. Be a wing man. Help her in making her long-time crush see her. Because that would be using a mature mind to help my best friend find her soul mate. Yes!