Page 101 of It's Always Sonny

“He is. I don’t think you see him clearly.”

I like the little I know of Rusty, but this is the best I can do without playing his cards for him. “Either way, you gotta leave the tent. These are not the tummy waffles you’re looking for.”

“Did you seriously reject me with a Star Wars reference?” Ash asks, holding a hand to her chest. “That hurts, Sonny. You know I’m a Star Trek girl at heart.”

I hitch my thumb toward the flap. “Get on the get.”

She sticks her tongue out but leaves.

“I guess this is my stop,” I tell PJ.

“I guess so.”

“To be continued?”

“Hey guys,” Sienna says from outside the tent. “I don’t mean to be a buzzkill, but this really isn’t the time for a DTR.”

“What ’s a DTR?” I ask.

“Define the relationship,” Sienna says. “Get moving. We need to go help cute farm animals.”

PJ sits up. “What happened?”

“I’m not sure. Something to do with the storm hitting the barn.”

PJ doesn’t wait for me to get out. “Close your eyes,” she says.

I do.

Twenty seconds later, she tells me to open them, and I find her wearing jeans and a hoodie and stuffing her feet into socks. I spin out of the bag and start pulling on my pants.

Her eyebrow jerks up as she looks at me appreciatively. “You need a warning label on those things.”

“What?” I ask, although I have a pretty good idea.

“Ash, they are certifiable tummy waffles.”

“Four pats of butter?” Ash asks as I shake my head.

“Is four the most? Whatever the most is, add one,” PJ says. Ash whimpers.

“You two are objectifying me.”

“No, I’m objectifying you,” PJ says, staring at my abs. I don’t actually need to flex them to make them pop, but I do anyway. “Ash wishes she were objectifying you.”

“My eyes are up here, PJ.”

Her smile is wolfish. She grabs my sweatshirt, and I hold my hands out expectantly. But instead of tossing it to me, she tucks it under her arm, picks up her phone, and points it at me. “Say waffles.”

“PJ!”

I hear the click and chuckle beneath my breath. “Will you at least give me my sweatshirt, or do I have to pretend I’m in a Matthew McConaughey romcom all day?”

She hands it to me with a smirk that makes my heart flip.

I don’t make a comment about her hair still being down or about the fact that she’s not wearing makeup or the fact that the soles of her hiking boots are a normal height instead of platforms. But I file it all away in my brain to pull out later. Without her platform shoes, she’s over a foot shorter than I am. It’s easy to forget because her presence is so much larger than life. This is PJ stripped beyond the physical. This is her ready to face the day without her armor. I know she doesn’t have a say in the matter, but she’s distracted or busy enough not to look like it’s eating away at her, either.

We put on our coats and step outside, and PJ’s eyes go wide.

---