Page 137 of A Little Broken

“Soooo…” She drags the word out and starts scrubbing my cereal bowl with a new sponge from beneath the sink. “How was last night?”

I rest my hip on the edge of the counter, my gaze narrowing. “Fiiiine,” I mimic, stealing her inflection.

“And?” she prods.

“And what?” I laugh. “I already told you about everything this morning, remember?”

“There’s no way a two minute texting conversation held all the details of an entire night.”

“I hate to disappoint you, but I’m not sure there’s much more to catch you up on,” I lie.

“Mm-hmm. Sure. Does this mean Pax found your weak spot?”

“He found my G-spot,” I quip.

Flicking some bubbles at me, she groans. “Gross.”

“I believe the word you’re searching for is jealous.”

She smirks and starts cleaning again. “That, too. But seriously, are you guys good?”

“I think so.”

“You thinking about running again?” she prods, giving me the side-eye.

I throw my hands in the air and groan, “Why does everyone think I’m going to run again?”

“That’s not a no,” she points out. “And what do you mean everyone?”

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I grumble, “Let’s just say, you’re not the only person to ask me that question in the last twenty-four hours.”

Her eyes bulge. “He asked if you’re planning to run?”

I avoid her gaze, choosing to pick at my cuticles instead. “Yup.”

“And what did you say?”

“Well, the first time he asked, I said, I don’t know, and the second time, I pretty much said, I wouldn’t, so…”

“And what didhesay?” she pushes.

I drop my hand and look up at her. “He said, he might have to invest in some good running shoes because he isn’t letting me get away again.”

Her jaw drops. “Okay, swoon.”

My thoughts exactly.

Anxious for a subject change, I ask, “So, did you finish your paper?”

“Subtle,” she notes with a knowing glint in her eyes while rinsing the bowl in the trickling water and setting it on the drying rack. “And yes, by some miracle, I did finish my paper. Can I tell you how excited I am to actually graduate and be done with school?”

“Yeah, I can imagine,” I answer. “What do you say we celebrate? Maybe have a girls’ night?”

“What about Pax?” she asks.

“What about him?”

“You don’t have plans?”

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