Page 61 of Lovingly Restored

She places her purse on the edge of the table, and I can’t help but wonder if she has a condom for her night out like Ashlyn did. From the way her friend leans across the table and toys with the wet neck of Dean’s beer bottle, I’d sayshedoes. Dean flags down our server and orders some more drinks, talking easily with his date. This is awkward. I feel like a grade-A asshole every time she smiles coyly and I scowl in return. Time plods along, and the only thing getting me through listening to Kristen, no, Katrina talk about how peanuts aren’t actually nuts, but members of the legume family, is the rum and cokes I’m slurping down. I’m taking Ashlyn away this weekend, and, technically, I’m on a date with another girl. I imagine Ashlyn’s face if she walked through the door right now and saw us and my stomach churns. Nothing about that sits right with me. When they excuse themselves to the washroom, I turn to Dean.

“I did not sign up for this, D.”

“You don’t date anymore? You off the market?”

Fuck it.

“You know what? I think I am.”

Pretty sure I have been for a while.

He whips out his phone and starts typing.

“What are you doing?” I lean over to see his screen.

He swerves out of my view. “Notifying Chris and Berg that they owe me fifty bucks each.”

“What thehellwas the bet?”

“That if I brought you a hot girl, you’d turn her down because you’re basically wifed up.”

I balk at his words. “Wifed up? Jesus Christ, D. She’s…”

Titles are hard. I think she and I have both learned that we suck at keeping things casual. Even though we haven’t fooled around very much, things between us are intense. Yet…I don’t hate that. I rake my hands through my hair.

“Tell me she’s nothing. Tell me she’s just a hookup. Do it.”

“I…”

I fuckingcan’t. Ashlyn has quickly become so much more than I bargained for. Objectively, Katrina is hot. She’s one hundred percent the type of girl I might have hooked up with in the past. But tonight? There isn’t a thing she could say or do to interest me. All I can think about is the woman who’s dreaming away with that fuzzy pink robe at the foot of her bed. The woman who treats my grandmother like family. The woman who bought me the breakfast food I love without me even asking.I bump the table as I stand, nearly tipping the empty bottles.

“I’ve gotta go, man.”

Now that I’ve decided to go to her, I can’t get there fast enough.

“You’ve had a lot of drinks, you need a ride?”

“No. I’ll walk.”

Hell, I’ll run to get there faster.

Ashlyn will be in bed by now, but the idea of sleeping in the room next to her is all I need.

Chapter twenty

Ashlyn

Mummowenttobedages ago, and I’m standing in my room, completely overwhelmed, so I’ve called in backup.

“You don’t need that.” Anna tosses a pair of jeans out of my small weekender bag.

I place a pair of flannel pyjama pants inside.

“Or those,” she says, throwing them out too.

I toss my hands in the air. “WhatamI allowed to bring?”

“It’s a sexy cabin getaway. You literally only need yourself. And him, but you can’t pack that. Speaking of packing…is he?” She bounces her eyebrows at me a few too many times.

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