Page 41 of Close Knit

She frowns. “There you go again with the judgment and assumptions. Stop it. I have no interest in being famous. Knitting is a way for me to connect with people.”

“I guess I haven’t met many people who do what you do and don’t want fame out of it.”

“Is that why you have something against people in my profession?”

On the television, Mal Kelly and a group of women sit around a firepit. I wince. Daphne seems to notice, flipping the channel. I expect her to ask for more details, but she doesn’t.

“Notagainst,” I say. “You just continue to surprise me.”

“It’s quite fun doing that.” She smiles. “Who knows, if you’re not a bad friend, I might even reserve a spot for you at my retreat. You can see what it’s like to be around people who share their feelings.”

“Don’t think so.”

“You say that now, but if I managed to get you to open up tonight, then you might learn to talk about all the stuff you’re mysteriously figuring out.”

The comment makes me want to nudge her shoulder, but maybe we’re not quite that friendly yet. “To be fair, I had no choice. We’re locked in here.”

“Watch it, you’re on thin ice.” She laughs.

I laugh too, the foreign feeling warming my bones. I glance at the sofa again. It’s big enough to seat a group of eight, and I consider the spot farthest from where she’s sitting the most appropriate place I could choose without disrupting our trial friendship. I settle opposite her, and one of my fingers brushes over the orange blanket I’ve become very well acquainted with. “This is really impressive.”

“Thanks.” Her cheeks dimple. “You can use it if you want. It doesn’t bite.”

“That’s all right.” I pull my hand away.

“Come on, what are you afraid of? That you’ll like it?”You have no idea just how much I like it, Duck.She stands, grabbing the throw and shaking it out. I freeze as she drapes it over my shoulders, the familiar softness and warmth encasing me. “There. Much better.”

Sure is.

The silence dares me to reach out and feel the smooth skin of her cheek and the silky texture of her lavender hair.How can someone so unfamiliar feel so safe?

A noise from the television grabs Daphne’s attention, and she returns to her seat.

An urgency erupts inside of me. I need to cement this friendship. Who knows how much longer we have in this room alone. I can’t lose this feeling of ease now that I’ve got a real taste for it.

“Can I propose something?”I ask.

“Proposing already? We just became friends.”

Smartass.“What if I can help make your Yes Year more exciting? To make up for how much of a jerk I was to you.”

She raises a brow at me. “Tell me more about this being-a-jerk-to-me part.”

I shoot her a glare. “Enough.”

“Then just the making-it-up-to-me part.”

I lean my forearms on my thighs. The next words feel like a gamble. “What if I give you some more opportunities to say yes?”

“I already said this is platonic.”

I suck air through my teeth, shaking my head at her. “What a filthy mind. But I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“Oh, hush!” She drops her knitting project and tosses a pillow at me, but I block it, tucking it into my chest and holding it close. “Guess that was never going to work.” She rolls her eyes. “You’re literally a professional.”

“I’m sure you’ll get past my defenses eventually.” The easy flirting spills into our conversation. “I only meant that I can show you a different side to London, one you haven’t seen before. I’ve lived here for a few years.”

She considers me. “Maybe. As long as I don’t have to make any acquaintances with the grumpy storm cloud that follows you around.” Frankly, I’m growing tired of it too. This could be goodfor me. A way to get my mind off of this terrible season and how much I’m fucking up my communication on the field. “What do you even like to do for fun? Ignore puppies?”

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