Page 131 of The Love Haters

“I should go in,” he said.

And all I could do was agree.

Twenty-One

THE NEXT DAYwas Friday. At last.

My last day of pretending.

Also known as the anniversary of the accident.

Sullivan’s sunburn was better by Friday, and she ventured out that afternoon to sit in the shade and enjoy the breeze. The Gals surrounded her and asked her all about how she was feeling. When she heard that Hutch and Cole and Rue were headed out to dinner that night, she tried to invite herself along, but The Gals dissuaded her—saying it was family only.

Which was why she made a not-pleased face when Rue, right in front of her, invitedmeto join.

Rue had sent Cole to pick up flowers, and after he got back, she sat at a poolside table, dividing up the bouquets.

“Who’s the fourth one for?” I asked.

Rue looked at me over her glasses. “You, sweetheart.”

“Oh, no,” I said, glancing toward Sullivan. “This is a family day.”

Rue turned back to the flowers. “You’re close enough.”

I looked over at Cole just as Hutch walked up. He had dressed forthe occasion, wearing gunmetal-gray dress pants that fit like he’d just stepped out of the pages ofGQ. If he was hungover from the drinking contest, he was hiding it like a warrior. A freshly shaved warrior in a slim-fit button-down.

Though, to be fair, he was also wearing his standard-issue concerned frown.

“She’s close enough to what?” Hutch asked, in response to Rue.

“Family,” Rue and Cole said, in unison.

Hutch looked down to count Rue’s bouquets. “She’s not coming with us, is she?”

“Of course she is,” Rue said, like he was nuts to ask.

“But it’s our first time back together,” Hutch said.

“He’s right,” I said, trying to join Team Hutch.

But Rue wasn’t brooking any nonsense. “She’s important to Cole, so she’s important to us. If you ever get a girlfriend, she can come, too.”

Hutch gave Rue a look, likeThanks a lot.

He wasn’t wrong. I was a total interloper.

But I couldn’t think of a way out. If I feigned an illness, Rue might worry about me. If I suddenly had an “important meeting,” she might feel like my impending new family didn’t matter. If I “forgot something” back at the Starlite, she’d be waiting for me to return. All I could do was go—and make the best of things.

The Starlite was right off Duval Street, which is one of the main drags in Key West, so we left Sullivan and The Gals behind, gathered up our bouquets, and walked along the bustling sidewalk, handing out flower after flower to tourists, and shoppers, and passersby.

Despite everything, it was fun.

Rue and I paired off, leaving the guys to do the same. They looked companionable—from a distance, at least. Rue and I cradled our bouquets like we were prima ballerinas about to take our bows. Before we began in earnest, Rue snapped two of the flowers’ stems short and tucked one behind her ear, and one behind mine.

“Whatever happened to the flower hair clip I gave you?” she asked.

“Lost.” I shrugged. At the back of Hutch’s closet.

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