Page 66 of Moth to a Flame

Fuck. Now I’m hot all over again. And wet.

I want to go home. I want to call him and ask him to come back from whatever it is he’s doing and be with him. I crave it so badly that my muscles hurt and my laugh dies out.

Which is ridiculous and makes me feel awful at the same time. I’ve been waiting for our monthly book club meeting.

Not to mention, I love it here, being in Teresa’s home. She owns this cozy, two-story house in the suburbs.

Books are lying around everywhere, and I mean everywhere. On the coffee table, the floors, the antique shelves that line her walls. Even in the kitchen, there are always three books next to her coffee maker.

The only place that doesn’t hold any books is her backyard. She would’ve found a way to store them there too, if not for her beloved pets.

Billy and Stu, her boa constrictors, live back there in separate cages just so they won’t kill each other. We leave Mojo at home so he won’t howl for them throughout our entire meeting.

Teresa, the older woman with brown slick hair and golden eyes, brings them to her living room to pet them daily.

Except for when the four of us meet. Deidra, the youngest member of our book club, is scared of them.

“Regan,” she calls to me, her blonde hair shining like her blue eyes.

Tonight, she matched her sweater to that unique, cyan color, and it’s like she’s ocean and sunshine all in one person.

Which, metaphorically speaking, she is. “Did he, or didn’t he?”

Oops. Looks like I’ve been lost inside my head for too long. “Who did what?”

“You’ll have to excuse my sister.” Rosemary pinches my cheek from her place next to me on the couch. “She has a new…” Pause. Her smile is wide and genuine. It’s been that way since I ran to her apartment after Landon left to gush about how madly in love I was. “Can I tell them?”

“He’s not new.” I bat her hand away playfully. Warmth spreads across my cheeks as three sets of eyes regard me in the small living room. “He just is. A boyfriend. I have a boyfriend.”

Landon and I haven’t put a label on what we have. Then again, he called me mine. A lot of times. Pretty sure that makes me his girlfriend.

“Even Mojo likes him.” Rosemary beams. Though she didn’t trust him at first, she saw how ridiculously happy he made me, which, in turn, made her just as thrilled about him. “And he doesn’t just love anyone.”

“Oh my God. Oh my God.” Teresa practically jumps out of the antique armchair she’s curled up in. “Yes. I’ve been praying for this. Billy and Stu have been asking about you as well. All the time.”

Hearing about her snakes asking about me isn’t strange. Years ago, Teresa lost her husband in a car accident and decided there would be no one else. They didn’t have any children, so she adopted her snakes and she talks to them instead.

“Thank you.” I’m blushing harder. I don’t care.

I’m in a safe space, surrounded by people who love me, and I love them back. They’ve never nagged me about putting myself out there. When I shared my story two years ago—a year after we started our little book club—they wished me happiness.

“Well?” Deidra blows on her tea mug, her voice as excited as her expression. “Don’t keep us waiting. What’s he like? When do we get to meet him?”

“He’s not Brawn, that’s for sure.” I avoid the question about bringing him over. Meeting my book club friends is as serious as meeting the parents. There’s no telling when he’ll be up for it. “He doesn’t drug me while he…You know.”

Rosemary cracks up at my side, shaking her head. “No, he doesn’t.”

When theoh my Godandooohs andahhhsfade away, I go back to the question from earlier. “What about Brawn, then?”

Teresa picks up her huge green mug and winks from behind it, telling me she sees what I’m doing here.

“Yes, Brawn.” Deidra places her drink down on the coffee table between the three stacks of books and claps her hands. “I don’t think it was an accident, the overdose.”

“Had to be.” In my periphery, I see Rosemary sitting a little taller. I hear her sniffling. “He cried. He came inside her and then there was no pulse and he cried. That’s love.”

“Yes, it’s love. Here, Rosemary.” Deidra passes my sister the tissue box sitting on the high book stack at her side. “He loved her so much. That’s why he did it.”

“Could’ve been a subconscious thing.” Teresa raises her mug.

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