Page 105 of Absolute Certainty
He was about to protest when his mind told him not to push. “If that’ll make you feel better, then sure.”
“It will.”
“You got it.”
She drew forward to grab her ginger ale from the coffee table, but he did it for her.
“Thanks,” she said, then took a sip. She held onto it with her other hand, repositioned her leg propped on the pillow, and inched closer to him with the rest of her body. “I’m not allowed to play any games, but wanna watchCluewith me?”
He wanted to wrap his arm around her shoulder. She was so close that he could.
“I’ll take anything that isn’tThe Incrediblesright now,” he replied.
A sweet huff of laughter left her lips. “Is that what Eloise has been making you watch?”
“Yup. She’s deemed it her ‘sick comfort show,’ and we’ve watched it four times since Tuesday.”
Her smile was so fucking adorable, he didn’t know what to do with himself. She meandered with the remote until she foundClue.
They lapsed into a companionable silence, hands tightly entwined together.
27
SAHAR
Tightening her ankle brace after she’d iced it, Sahar stared at her open wardrobe, trying to figure out what to wear.
What did one wear to spend the entire day potentially writing at someone’s house that would be comfortable, cute, and weather-appropriate?
Sahar was generally decent at picking outfits when she wasn’t thinking about them, but now that she was—and thinking of Jay—her entire closet blurred into a colorful, indistinguishable blob. An unfolded batch of clean laundry sitting in a woven basket also eyed her from the corner of her room. It’d been four days of her saying,I’ll get to it today,but remembering it only in the dead of night when she was comfortably settled in bed.
“Wills,” she called out. When it came to clothes, Willa was better under pressure, and the blazer and denim jeans outfit she’d styled for theFranklin Streetpremiere had already been a hit.
Stepping into Sahar’s room with two cups of tea in her hand, Willa grinned at her. “Brought you tea. How may I be of service?”
Sahar reached for the mug. “I don’t know what clothes are. I’m nervous. I’m stressed. Help me, Obi-Willa, you’re my only hope.”
Willa barked out a laugh. “That’s my new favorite nickname. How is this the first time you’ve ever used it?”
Sahar blew out an exhale. “Maybe because I’ve never needed you more?”
“Are we feeling dramatic?”
Groaning, Sahar replied, “Extremely.”
Willa set her mug down on Sahar’s bedside table, then drew closer to her wardrobe, swaying hangers left and right. She eventually pulled out a simple black cotton midi-dress and held it out for Sahar to approve.
“See, this is why I need you,” Sahar declared.
Hanging the dress facing forward, Willa walked back for her mug and took a sip of her tea. She eyed Sahar again, sympathetic understanding resting in her gaze. “Are you feeling up for this?”
Sahar circled her fingers around her own mug. “I’m so nervous, Wills. I almost want to text him and tell him that I feel worse and don’t want company, but I don’t want to do that to him,” she said, pausing. “But also, Iwantto be around him. I can’t help it.”
Willa gave her an empathetic smile. “It’s not like you to be anxious or apprehensive. That’s my brand.”
“That’s because—” sighing, “I don’t think anyone’s made me feel like this before,” Sahar said, setting the mug down on the nightstand. She closed her eyes for an instant. “He makes me feel… mushy and soft. It feels like there’s stardust or some other flowery shit constantly collapsing inside of me when I think about him. Everything about Jay feels,” anotherpause. “Bright and lovely, and little by little, I’m losing it.”
“Aw, babe. Those are some real lovey-dovey emotions you’re feeling.”
