Page 13 of Sincerely, Your Enemy

“She’s studying economics,” Lydia speaks for me.

If he thinks I’m a complete freak, he doesn’t let it show, his smile growing in size. “Nice. I’m in finance.”

Jesus, I used to be so good with guys.

When did I lose all my game?

“I’m Aaron, by the way.” He continues to speak directly to me.

I return his smile. “Lacey.”

Aaron takes his coffee from Lydia’s hands with a thanks, then casts another look in my direction, that pantie-dropping smile on display.

“It was nice meeting you.”

I watch as he makes his way to the door and exits the café.

“Well, that was pathetic,” Lydia mocks, twisting the knife, the moment he’s out the door. “You don’t date much, do you?”

“Not really,” I admit.

What she doesn’t know is I promised myself this would be the year I get back in the game.

Time to act like it.

I pullup to Dia’s apartment complex a half hour late. I stopped by my place to change after work. I might’ve also used my change of clothes as an excuse to check on the babysitter I hired to watch Oli and Sierra—but mostly Sierra.

Mrs. Harrison is down with the flu, so she couldn’t make it. I feel awful about needing her so much, even though she’s always telling me I’m doinghera favor because she’d never leave the house if it weren’t for us. I figured getting a babysitter every once in a while would give her a break.

I park my car in one of the visitors’ spots out front and amble to the entrance of the building. I press Dia’s apartment number on the intercom and wait for her to pick up, which she does just seconds later.

“Password, please?” a chuckling Dia says on the other end.

“I have wine?” I improvise, clutching the cheap bottle of rosé.

She snorts. “Correct. You may proceed.”

She buzzes me in, and a pit of emotion settles in my throat. It’s so good to hear Dia laughing again. She went through hell last year.

She had to drop out of school to recover from a brain injury. She was in physical therapy for three months. Her boyfriend, Finn—I’m sorry, herfiancé—stood by her side every step of the way, but I could tell she was struggling.

Things are just starting to get back to normal. Only difference is Dia’s decided not to return to school. She’s not sure what’s next, but she’s thinking of creating a dog-walking app. She’s always been a big animal lover.

I reach Dia’s floor in no time and shimmy down the hallway. I don’t even bother knocking, letting myself into her apartment. The smell of bacon makes my mouth water the second I walk through the door. She wasn’t kidding about this breakfast-for-dinner thing.

The girls are sitting on the living room sectional when I come in.

“Finally. I was starting to wonder what the couch cushions taste like,” Aveena says, and I know she’s only half joking.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned since Aveena got pregnant, it’s that you donotwant to stand between a pregnant woman and her cravings.

The girls leap to their feet. Scratch that—Dialeaps to her feet. Aveena’s belly is so big she grapples with gravity, trying and failing to get off the couch a few times before succeeding.

It’s no secret that Vee has had it with being pregnant. She’s seven, almost eight months in, and she hasn’t been as lucky as she’d have hoped.

Her nausea persisted well into her second trimester, and she has constant, terrible back pain. At least Xavier, her boyfriendand the father, worships the ground she walks on. He’s been catering to her every need since that test came back positive.

He even delayed his entry into the NBA draft to be by her side. TJ and Theo then followed suit for personal reasons, most of which they’ve kept to themselves.

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