Page 27 of The Friend Game

“Found my contact,” I go on, slightly less exuberantly. My adrenaline spiked when I first popped out, but now self-consciousness is settling in. I just have to push through, though, I have no other option. I finally look in Luke’s direction, but squint like he’s blurry, trying to sell my contact story. “Pastor Abbott, hi, hey, hello.”Oh my gosh, I never should’ve gotten up this morning. “I mean, I didn’t know you were going to be here, what a nice surprise. My contact fell out of my eye. But I found it. Whew.”

“Aunt Hannah,” Ellie enters the kitchen, “why is your face so red?”

“Sunburn,” I inform her a bit hotly, but she doesn’t hear me, her eyes have found Luke.

“Pastor Abbott!” she squeals, running across the floor and throwing herself at him for a hug.

“Hey there, Ellie.” He accepts her hug with a chuckle, but as they separate his eyes go back to me.

“Hannah, hi, hey, hello to you too.” He grins. “Glad you found your contact.” There’s nothing but warmth in his eyes, and despite how embarrassing this situation is I feel myself start to relax.

“Yeah, so am I,” Jill says wryly. “Here I thought you were practicing for an air raid.”

“Ha!” I let out a too shrill laugh. “My sister the comedian. Well, I better go put this contact back in my eye. See you in a minute.” I hurry out the door and down the path to my house. Holly greets me with a booming bark, following me inside then staring at me as I slump against the door.

“Holly,” I moan, “I am such an idiot, you know that?” She cocks her head like the good listener she is, and blinks up at me. “The worst part is my closet is within reach,” I gesture to my bedroom door, “but I can’t change now. He’s already seen me; it’ll look like I’mtrying too hard.”

Holly lets out a short bark that I take as agreement.

My phone dings in my pocket, and I pull it out to read the text that just arrived. It’s from Jill.

My cheeks glow pink with pleasure. I straighten and attempt to look at my butt. I don’t bend that way though, so I head for my bathroom mirror. Another text dings in arrival. Jill again.

“Oh!” I do a shimmy shake worthy only of the privacy of my own home. “He likes my butt, Holly!” I cry. She’s unimpressed. Which is odd given her tendency to sniff any butt that crosses her path. Whatever. I need to move on anyway. After all, I may have a crush on him, and he may think I have a cute butt and that I am not totally crazy, but those three things alone do not a relationship make.

“Besides,” I inform Holly as I head back to my front door, “I really should be respectful of his contracted singleness, right?”

She just paws at the door, making it clear that she expects to come with me to the house. She loves Goldie and the kids, especially Ellie who fawns over her and perpetually smells likefruit or baked goods thanks to her massive collection of Smackers lip balms.

“Fine, you can come,” I tell her as I swing open the door. “Just remember to mind your manners. Don’t go sticking your head in his crotch.”

It’s as I finish this teasing pronouncement that I realize I’m not alone in the backyard. Nope, Max and Luke are out here too, standing over by the pomegranate trees that are Jill’s pride and joy. I gasp in horror as both their heads swivel in my direction.

“Oh gosh, I was definitely talking to Holly,” I hurry to explain, gesturing down to Holly, who starts barking loudly at the sight of someone new. She does her waddling version of a run over to Luke. He crouches down to greet her, at which point she tilts her snout up and licks him right on the mouth. Great, my dog got a kiss before I did.

The little hussy.

Meanwhile Max stands there holding a pomegranate and trying not to laugh at me.

“My dog has no manners,” I say apologetically to Luke while shooting a glare Max’s way. “And I know it’s my job to teach her manners, but in my defense she spent the first six months of her life in a Spanish speaking household, so I’m not sure she actually understands me when I give her directions.”

There’s a beat of silence during which I contemplate the potential benefits of never speaking in front of Luke again, but then Luke laughs. Like really laughs, head thrown back, all the way from his stomach laughter. All the awkwardness I’ve been feeling melts away, as I laugh too. Even Max joins in. Then Holly starts howling, garnering the attention of everyone in the house.

Jill sticks her head out the back door to see what all the ruckus is about, and the kids and Goldie come tumbling out under her, Ellie shouting, “Holly, my sweet boo puppy!”

Holly, obviously sensing the impending taste of cotton candy lips, stops howling, trots over to Ellie and commences licking her all over her face and mouth.

“So it’s not just me,” Luke’s voice speaks into my left ear, and I turn to see him shaking his head ruefully.

“Sorry, buddy,” I say with a laugh, “Holly kisses everyone. Though if you want the full facial treatment you’ll have to put on some Smackers lip balm like Ellie. The cotton candy is Holly’s favorite.” I reach into my pocket and pull out the green and pink lip balm Ellie gave me earlier today as a present for being “such a nice art teacher” and show him the label. “Watermelon is a close second though, if you prefer a fruity flavor like I do.” I smack my lips demonstratively.

Luke doesn’t laugh like I was expecting. Instead his face gets a little pink and he lets out a strangled cough. My own cheeks start to flush too. I’m cursed with being a sympathetic blusher.

“I do like watermelon,” he announces a little too loudly. “How about these pomegranate trees, though?” He reaches up and pats one of the branches, and a pomegranate falls to the ground at his feet. “Whoops.” Luke bends down to retrieve the pomegranate, bumping his head on a branch lightly on the way down.

“Are you okay?” I ask in alarm.

“Who me?” Luke puts the hand holding the pomegranate he just retrieved to his chest. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Right as rain.” He winces at his word choice, and for the first time I realize he’s flustered. I’ve flustered him! But how? I eye the watermelon lip balm in my hand, replaying what I just said to him. Was that it? Me talking about what flavor of lip balm I like best? I feel a frisson of pleasure. I bet he’s wishing he could hide under a table right about now.

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