Page 12 of One Day

WALKER

Flynn is sitting at the kitchen table when I get home, this time without the solace of her headphones to keep her company. The sound of the door clicking shut behind me causes both her and Fish to perk up. “Hey,” I say, tossing my keys into the bowl by the front door. Fish meows in greeting, weaving in between my legs. “No headphones today?”

“Forgot to put them on the charger last night,” Flynn says, turning her laptop towards me when I approach the kitchen table. “Will you come to this with me? It’s tomorrow.”

I lean down and read the poster open on the screen for the campus gallery’s student showcase before lifting my eyebrow at her. “Why do you want to go to an art gallery?”

Her cheeks warm almost immediately, giving me all the answer I need. It has nothing to do with the art gallery itself and everything to do with the cute barista at The Roast House. The mere thought of her turns Flynn bright pink. “Devon’s friend is in it, and I may have talked a big game to her when she invited me. I obviously know nothing about art, but you do, so I need you to come and make me look good.”

“How exactly am I supposed to do that?” I ask, settling in across from her at our farm-style kitchen table. For all the calm Flynn brings to a room, she turns into an utter mess when it comes to Devon. I’ve watched her work up the nerve to talk to her for over a year, and despite them being friendly now, she still hasn’t pulled the trigger and asked her out.

“By pulling out that Southern charm and teaching me the fancy art lingo you picked up from your mom. Or at least, talk me up to her,” she says, pouting her bottom lip. “Please?”

The pleading look tugs on my heartstrings. “Okay.”

“Thank you!” She practically squeals while pulling her laptop back towards her. Truthfully, I’m not sure I could have said no even if I wanted to. “So, get propositioned for sex today?” she asks, effectively changing the subject.

“No, but I did see Sonya.”

And fuck did it make me want to take my answer back.

“Yeah? How was it? Fuck everything up by turning her down?” she asks, a knowing look in her eyes when she looks up. She reads me so easily, it’s like she’s inside my brain. Or maybe it’s simply because we’ve spent so much time together that it’s just that simple for her to see right through me.

“No, we’re fine.”

She hums. “But…”

“But…” I say, confirming her suspicions but not wanting to voice them. Acknowledging it out loud means I’m giving it legs, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that. I’m not sure I ever will be. “Fuck,” I mutter, pulling my glasses off and setting them on the table to run my hands down the length of my face. “She mentioned Dylan leaving her bed this morning, and for a split second, I thought maybe she went to him after asking me, and I just—”

“Wanted to strangle him?” she asks, a smile tugging at her lips. “Are you jealous, Walk?”

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “Fuck, yes. Maybe. I don’t know.”

She shuts her laptop, folding her hands over it. “Break it down for me. When you thought she might have slept with Dylan,” she says, and just the idea makes my skin crawl. “What were you thinking?”

“I was mad.”

“At her?”

I shake my head. “Of course not.”

“Okay, then you were mad at Dylan.”

“No.” I bite down on my lip before sighing. “I was pissed at myself for saying no when she asked me. I’ve been pissed at myself since last night.”

She nods her head. “I figured when I heard you angrily making breakfast this morning. You know, you can change your mind. You are allowed to do that if you want to say yes.”

“I can’t say yes.”

“Why not?”

For a million different reasons, but the main one is that I’ve spent the last year and a half saying Sonya wasn’t an option. She would never be an option, and I was okay with that. But now she’s here on a silver platter, and sure, we could have sex and keep things casual, but when that ends, I’m not sure I can go back to just being friends with Sonya.

I’m pretty sure it would be impossible, but instead of saying that, I say, “We’re friends. We’re only ever going to be friends.”

She nods her head, absorbing my words, but instead of letting that be it, she reaches across the table and takes my hand. “With benefits?”

I roll my eyes, pulling my hand out from under hers, when my phone starts to vibrate. “You’re the worst, you know that?” I ask, fishing the device out of my pocket. “I’ve got to take this. It’s my mom.”

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