Page 41 of Coming Up Roses

Neither one of us speaks. She’s looking at everything but me—literally everything. I ignore her, knowing eventually, she’ll break.

After damn near ten minutes of awkward silence, I give up on waiting her out. “Azalea Josephine, what gives?”

“Whatever do you mean?” she inquires with all the charm of a debutante. She even bats her lashes at me.

“Puh-lease, sister-girl. Take that shit somewhere else.”

“Okay, fine.” She inhales deeply, and with all her words running right together, she blurts, “ImighthavesleptwithDrake!”

“Huh?” I must have misheard her. Because there is no way she did what I think she said.

Another deep breath. “I slept with Drake. And it was amazing. And I loved it, every second. It was a one-time thing, and it’ll never happen again. So, how was your night?” Her smile is tremulous, at best, and her tone brokers no room for negotiation.

“Last night was a shit-show,” I deadpan. She raises a brow at me, silently saying please continue, Myla.

So I do. “It started out really, really good. He was such a gentleman, opening doors for me and walking with his hand at my back. He took me to Cotton, and the food was delicious. Like, oh-my-God good. We even ordered the same thing, and we shared a dessert. We talked about the baby, and Az, he seemed so interested and not at all put off by it. And he told me about his ex, and it just seemed like this could maybe lead to more one day.” I sigh, thinking back on how amazing dinner was.

“I’m missing the bad part . . .” Her words cause my smile to drop, an ugly scowl taking its place.

“The bad part is what came after dinner."

I lean back harder into my pedicure chair and use the remote to ramp up the massage before releasing a long, drawn-out sigh.

“Okay, so we left Cotton and the drive back was fine. And by fine, I mean I was a hot damn mess on the inside. He not only helped me into the truck—he also buckled me in. I know, it sounds absurd, but when his shoulder brushed across me—hell, every time he touched me—my heart rate skyrocketed. When we got back to my house, he even insisted on walking me to the door! Taylor sure never did that.”

“Yeah, well, Taylor is a douche-canoe.” We both smile at that.

“That’s when it got a bit weird. He leaned in, and I thought he was gonna kiss me. Again.”

"You have this real knack for talking without ever saying anything, Myles."

I roll my eyes, even though she's right. I'm a bit long-winded, just like Grams. “Anyway, he didn’t kiss me.”

“So, what did he do?” God bless her, she's waiting for my next words like a dog waiting for a Milk Bone.

“He hugged me. So, yeah, I was a little disappointed—I guess I got my hopes up.” AzzyJo’s looking at me like I’ve spontaneously sprouted antlers.

“Cash must’ve felt bad or something, because then he did kiss me. And, girl, it went from zero to sixty, quick, fast, and in a hurry.”

“How fast? More, Myla, I need more!” Seriously, you’d think the girl was watching Lifetime she’s so entertained.

“I’m glad my humiliation is bringing you such joy,” I quip just as the nail technicians roll their stools over to our chairs. I hand her my polish, appropriately named A Good Man-darin is Hard to Find. Thank you, OPI.

AzzyJo hands over a dark mauve colored polish, a far cry from her usual. “No Strawberry Margarita today? What gives?”

“Just trying new things, Myla. Now, finish your story.”

I eye her suspiciously before continuing, “Yeah, okay. So, super fast. From a peck to up against my front door in the blink of an eye fast.” My voice is wistful, which just grinds my gears. Get over it, Myla Rose. Remember that lemonade.

“Nope, still not seeing the issue.” She’s smirking, like she knows how this ends.

“Well, once our kiss cooled down, I invited him in."

"You little hussy!"

"And things heated right back up." Tears are welling up in my eyes at just the memory of the texts on his phone. "The issue is that he went to the bathroom, and a few texts came through on his phone. I didn't even mean to look, Az. But they were awful, and they were about me."

"What do you mean, about you?" Her eyes are narrowed to slits and her tone is like steel.

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