Page 22 of Just Bromantically Invested

I love when that protective side is being focused my way.

Lana leaves the cafe, and I wait a moment before leaving as well. Once I’m past the windows, I find a stretch of wall to lean against and wait.

It only takes a minute for Madden to show his face. He hurries out of the cafe, brow scrunched, and almost jumps out of his skin when he looks up and finds me standing there.

“Penn.”

It’s so fucking hard not to laugh. “You sound surprised to see me here. At the cafe. Where I told you I was going before work.”

“Ah. Yeah. I ducked inside for a coffee before work too.”

“Weird that I didn’t see you. We were right by the register.”

He shrugs, tucking his hands into his pocket in a way I’m sure is supposed to look casual. “Must have been busy with Lana.”

Was thattone? I shake myself, because no. Lana has obviously taken over. “She’s really cool.”

“I’m happy for you.”

Even though I should call Madden out for being here, I … don’t. No need for him to feel awkward, and if I say something, it’s a definite way to make sure he never looks out for me like that again.

“Happy for me?”

He looks determined. “Yeah. She’s pretty. Seemed friendly.”

“So friendly you didn’t say a word to her this morning?” The question slips out, but while I might be okay with him low-key stalking me, I’m not okay with him being rude to people.

“I was tired.”

I give him my most skeptical look. “Tired?”

“Yep.”

“Well, I suggest you make sure you’re not tired the next time you see her.”

Madden slumps. “Well, that’s setting me up for failure. I have no idea when I’ll see her again.”

He might be an idiot, but he’s my idiot. I sling my arm around his shoulders. “I’ll make sure you get lots of notice, but we hit it off, and she lives two doors down from me, so it might be safer to assume she’ll be around a lot.”

“Like …” He swallows. “A lot a lot?”

“Who knows?”

“Is she yourgirlfriend?”

“No, she’s—” I cut off because I don’t actually know if I can say. Lana never said her sexuality was a secret, but Madden’s ranted about celebrities enough that I know outing people isn’t cool. She told me, but that doesn’t mean she wants to tell everyone.

Anyone who knows me and Madden knows that there are no secrets between us. The problem with that logic is Lanadoesn’tactuallyknow us. This might be one of those things I need to clarify with her first.

“I think she’ll be a great friend,” I tell him.

Madden tilts his head until it’s resting against mine. “I really want that for you.”

And walking along the street with my arm around him and his head against mine feels very, very coupley. How many other things do we do without thought that are giving people the wrong impression? How many other people actuallyhavethat impression?

That’s a deep dive for later.

I ease away from him and hope he doesn’t pick up that my thoughts have swung in a wildly different direction.

---