“Oh, so Henry’s the flavor of the week again,” Thomas says, with a double eyebrow raise.
“I don’t have a flavor of the week,” I say.
“Oh, that’s right. That’s Bree,” he says, giving Bree a cockeyed grin.
If looks could kill, the one Alex just gave Thomas would have easily put him six feet under.
“You’re just sad because you’ve never been my flavor,” Bree says, not taking the bait. Though I did catch something in her eyes. Hurt, maybe? It’s hard to say—Bree isn’t the type of girl to care about words. Especially from Thomas.
Thomas guffaws, obnoxiously. “Please. We’re not each other’s flavor.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” she says, her voice a low growl.
“So, about Henry,” Alex says, clearly trying to keep Thomas and Bree off this train they were about to jump on.
“Right,” I say. “Not much to tell. We’re . . . together now.” I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face, the tingle that runs up and down my spine.
We’ve been together every night since Tuesday, having dinner at each other’s apartments. Kissing, snuggling, watching movies. We talk about everything under the sun, not skirting around anything. Well, except for the fact that Henry won’t go out in public with me. But I didn’t expect that to change—it hasn’t even been a week.
It still weighs on me. Still rankles. When I let my brain run off like it does and don’t try to rein it in. Especially when he turns down things like me offering to meet him at the movies, each of us sneaking in. Who would catch us doing that? But Henry is against it completely and can’t be talked into it. And then he grabs me, with that half grin on his face, and snogs me so madly that I just let it go. It’s a very useful tactic of his. Works every time.
“They’re together,” Holly says, “but only in secret.”
All eyes turn to me, and Thomas is sporting a crap-eating grin.
“Oh really?” he says, drawing out the words. “So, we’ve traded settling for Brady for settling for Henry, have we?”
“It’s just a short-term thing,” I say, waving Holly’s words away with my hand and giving Thomas a scowl. “I’m not settling on anything.”
Thomas expertly lifts one eyebrow. “Sure, sure. What woman wants to be the main dish when they can be the coveted sidepiece?”
I throw him a scathing look.
“Is it because of the whole bad work relationship?” Bree pipes in.
“Yeah,” I say. “It was bad. He told me the whole thing. I can understand his worries.”
Excuses. I’m making excuses right now. Trying to convince my friends when I’m not even fully convinced. Yes, what happened with Claire was truly awful. Nasty, even. But I’m not Claire. I’d never do what she did. I hope Henry knows that much about me at least.
“So then how long until we get to meet this Henry?” Thomas asks.
I shrug. “Hopefully soon.”
I so badly want my friends to meet him and see for themselves how happy I am around him, how happy he makes me. Maybe I could have them all over to my place to meet him; maybe he’d be comfortable with that. The truth is, I don’t even know if he would be. I don’t even know if he’s okay with me talking about it here. What if someone I work with is sitting near us and hearing this whole conversation?
Now I’m feeling slightly paranoid. I peek behind me and to the sides of our table but don’t see anyone I know within listening distance.
“I’m starting to wonder if this Henry is even a real person,” Thomas says, his voice extra loud.
“Shut up, Thomas,” both Bree and I say at the same time.
“Do we even have a picture?” Thomas asks.
I pull out my phone and pull up a selfie we took together this weekend. I have quite a few of them on my phone, actually. I’d like a full body one, us with our arms wrapped around each other. But since we’re never around anyone to take a picture of us, selfies are all we have. I guess we could set up a timer, but what’s the point? It’s not like we’re at some place where we need to make a memory, since we’ve only really been on each other’s couches.
Gah. He should be here with me. Sitting next to me. Meeting my friends in person. Not just a picture on a camera.
“Well, he’s hot,” Bree says, grabbing the phone from Alex as my selfie with Henry makes it around the table. Even Logan has a look.
“I’ve been watching him on the feature,” Holly says. “I can attest that he’s real, and he’s quite nice to look at. Hey!” she says, twisting away from Logan, who’s clearly just pinched her on her side. “I didn’t say I was going to run away with him.” Logan smiles and leans in and places a kiss on her lips. It’s quick, but there’s so much unspoken meaning in that kiss.
“Why don’t you two just run off to Vegas and get married, already?” Thomas says, and Holly’s eyes go wide, as if she’s been caught red handed.
“Well, actually . . .” Logan says, trailing off.
“Logan!” Holly says, her voice chastising.
Silence lands on the table, and we each take turns looking at Holly and Logan and then at each other.
“What’s going on?” I ask, my eyes squarely on my best friend.
She looks down, twisting her lips side to side. She reaches up and tugs on a piece of her red hair.
“Are you two thinking of eloping?” Bree asks.
“I’d say by the pinking of Holly’s cheeks and the tips of Logan’s ears, that it’s a yes,” Thomas says, pointing at each in turn.
“Wait . . . Hols,” Alex says. “For real?”
Holly covers her face with her hands. “We didn’t want to tell you all like this,” she says, her voice muffled behind her hands.
“Oh, my gosh,” I say loudly. “When were you going to tell us?”
Holly looks up and then over at Logan, who gives her a small dip of his chin. “We only decided yesterday,” she says.
“So, you’re . . . getting married?” I ask, not able to believe what I’m hearing. It wasn’t that long ago that Holly was worried because she was feeling all these feelings and she felt like it was too soon. When did that change?
Holly takes in a big breath. “Yes,” she says. “Logan and I are getting married.”
The table erupts into everyone talking over each other, so many words and questions coming at Holly and Logan in rapid succession. When is it? How did he propose? Where’s the ring?
It turns out, after everyone settles down and Holly and Logan are able to answer the questions, that Logan asked her to marry him at the coffee shop where everything started for them. The Lava Java. He arranged it with the owner to go in after hours on a Sunday. She said yes, and the ring was too big, but she pulled out a chain hanging around her neck, and there, dangling on it, was a fairly large, round, diamond solitaire set in gold.
They don’t want a big wedding, because . . . well, Holly tried all that and would rather not do it again. And Logan isn’t a big wedding type of guy. So they want to keep it simple, invite some friends and their parents and make a weekend of it in Vegas. They want to do it sometime in October.