Page 2 of A Little Secret

“Debatable,” she humphs when a phone buzzes. I check my cell to see if it’s mine, and Fin does the same. Taking her cell from her back pocket, she nibbles the edge of her bottom lip, fighting a shy smile as she looks at her notification. The sight pulls in my gut, and my brows dip.

“Who are you texting?” I ask.

She glances up from her phone, but her attention falls right back to the screen. “Hmm?”

“I said, who are you texting?”

“Oh, a guy from school.”

“A guy from school, huh?” I scoot off the couch and onto the floor beside her. As if she has something to hide, she pulls her phone closer to her chest, her thumbs flyingacross the screen. Curiosity piqued, I tilt my head. “I thought this place was Boringville.”

Her lips purse. “Okay, maybe there’s a perk or two around here.”

Dylan, my little sister and Finley’s best friend, mentioned Finley found a guy friend at school. I assumed he was gay, but all it takes is one look at the girl in front of me to piece the truth together.

She’s interested in him. Really interested.

“You sure you’re old enough to be dating?” I ask.

She shoots me a look. “I’m sorry, are you my father or my brother’s best friend?”

“Hey,” I protest. “Give me a little more credit. I thought we were friends, too.”

Her gaze narrows, and she studies me carefully.

“What, we’re not friends?” I challenge. Fuck, it shouldn’t hurt, but, uh, what the hell?

“I mean, you’re more like a pain in the butt,” she offers dryly, “but I guess I’ll let you claim the title.”

“Gee, thanks.”

I almost forgot how sassy she is. The girl has had no filter since before she could walk. I should know. We’ve known each other our entire lives. Everett's my best friend, but with him a little older than me and Finley being Dylan's age, I always considered myself her friend, too. Only seeing them a few times a year since their mom took a new job far away from everyone else caused more than physical distance. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but where this girl's concerned, it only leaves me on edge.

With a wry grin, she bumps her shoulder with mine. “I’m teasing. You know you’re my favorite, Griff.” Phone buzzing, she looks back at the screen, distracted again.

Favorite, my ass.

“So, has Ev kicked the shit out of your little friend?” I prod.

“No.” She rolls her eyes, hits send on whatever response she’d typed, then sets her phone face down in her lap. “Not yet, anyway.”

I chuckle softly. “Does that mean I get to do the honors?”

“Pretty sure it’s never been your job, either.”

“Oh, it isn’t?”

“Nope. Besides, you’re too nice to beat up some guy all because he thinks I’m pretty.”

My heart thumps faster. “He thinks you’re pretty?”

“I mean, all guys think I’m pretty.” She tosses her long dark hair over her shoulder and tacks on a pointed look. “Right?”

I don’t know how she does it. How she rides the line of being annoying and arrogant and sassy and cute as a fucking button.

“Yes, you’re very pretty, Fin.” My attention falls to her pouty lips for a split second, but I quickly pull my head out of my ass, reminding myself where the hell I am and who the hell I’m talking to, adding, “And humble.”

She laughs. “You know me too well. But even if you didn’t, my point stands. Friends don’t beat up other friends' boyfriends.” Hesitating, she glances at the cards lying on the white oak coffee table. “Friendsalsodon’t get mad at other friends when the first friend ditches the second friend to hang out with a guy…”

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