was currently balancing four relationships—four very active relationships. It stunned me how perfect Thanksgiving had been and that the guys were all okay with each other.
Even Ian.
Maybe especially Ian.
More than okay. They were conspiring about something. I’d caught them plotting more than once. Quiet conversations that cut off when I came out of the bathroom or into the kitchen. Sly looks when they thought I wouldn’t see.
Text messages.
All the messages that were flying. Texting even when we were all in the same room like they were answering other people.
It irked me, but then I’d see their smiles and catch them laughing with each other, and I didn’t want to rock the boat. So, whatever they were plotting, I let it go.
For now.
We paid for dinner, and Rachel hustled me out of the bistro and down three stops to the same spa where we’d gotten our nails done for Homecoming.
Ice fisted me in the gut when she pulled open the door and it jingled a welcome. It didn’t matter that it was a lot colder or that the sun had already set or that holiday jingles rolled out of the overhead speakers, all at once, I was standing outside the shop talking to Maria. She’d warned me. Told me what happened to her, and I’d felt so fucking bad for her.
And a few hours later, I was waking up at a hospital to find out if it happened to me, too. Rachel let the door close after waving to the people inside and narrowed the distance between us. “Hey, you okay?”
I rubbed my arm and nodded. But I wasn’t okay. “Yeah,” I lied. But suddenly, I didn’t want to be out here. I just wanted to go back to my place and curl up and hide.
The second that thought took root, I hated it. I didn’t want to fucking hide. I shouldn’t have to hide. I forced myself to look up at the shop signs. They had Christmas lights twinkling in the windows. They’d sprayed faux snow on it, too and painted a Christmas tree side by side with a Menorah.
It was the closest we would get to snow for the holidays. We might get an ice storm.
Maybe.
Probably rain.
Could even be sunny and in the seventies.
But snow?
Pfft.
“We can skip this,” Rachel offered. “Head over to the mall? Do some shopping? Or just go find a place that’s warm to talk. I think the picnic table at the lake is out. Definitely too cold for that.”
“I’m okay,” I said, meaning it this time. “Just was thinking about the last time I was here.” My nails looked terrible, and I still had a cast. That was coming off on Monday, fingers crossed. We had finals most of the following week, then like three days of the week after that to get through before the holiday break kicked in and I didn’t have to think about school for a couple of weeks.
“You sure?” She eyed me like she could tell I was shining her on a little. “I want you to have fun tonight.”
“I am having fun. I’m with my best friend.”
Rachel narrowed her eyes at me and then blinked them before she half-turned away. “Right, okay. Let’s go make our feet beautiful. I’ll save my hands for when you can get yours done, too.”
Inside, we got set up and they pampered our feet. It took me a hot minute to relax, but by the time they were painting my toes, I had. Then I let Rachel talk me into that face waxing thing again. That turned into a leg waxing thing, because hey, who didn’t want to skip shaving for a few days?
When she suggested a Brazilian though, I was out of there. Nope.
Not happening.
‘Cause dude, ow.
“Trust me, clean shaven vag…it’s a turn on.” She gave me a knowing look.
“I’ll take your word for it.” I trimmed. That had to be enough. Hell, the guys had helped me shave my legs the last few weeks, and no, I wasn’t telling Rachel about that. It had been embarrassing enough the first time Coop offered.
“If you change your mind, let me know.” We were heading for her car, her arm looped through mine. “I know a great lady, barely feel it—well, after the first time. First time kind of sucks.” She made a face. “But I would totally buy you ice cream after.”
Laughter eddied up, and I shook my head. “You are a terrible influence.”