“What?” she asked me.
“What do you mean, what?”
“You’re looking at me.”
“You’re nice to look at, Abbs.”
She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t hide the small curve of her lips.
I loved making her smile. Especially when she wasn’t feeling incredibly happy.
“You look worried,” I said. “Why?”
“I don’t know. Part of me thinks my friends are going to judge me for getting serious with you so fast.”
“They wouldn’t if they understood the situation.”
“Yeah. I think I’m more worried about their response to you, though.”
My forehead creased. “How so?”
Her cheeks flushed. “You’re, like, gorgeous. Seriously, you could be on the cover of a romance book. And I’m just…” she gestured to all of herself.
“Is this about the so-called cellulite again?” I stepped away from the door, stopping behind her and setting my hands on her shoulders. “You know I think your body is perfect in every way.”
She sighed. “No, Cucumber. Well, yes. I know you think that, and I’m glad. That’s just not what I’m talking about. People are going to look at us together, and think you’re out of my league. It’s inevitable. That’s what I’m talking about.”
She gestured to us both, still staring at the mirror. “People stare at you, but they don’t notice me. And I’m fine with that—I don’t want to be stared at the way you are. But I don’t know what my friends are going to think about it, and that’s what scares me.”
“If your friends judge you because of what either of us looks like, they can fuck off,” I said calmly, but bluntly.
She smiled. “I guess.”
“I know.” I lowered my lips to her cheek, and she tipped her head to the side to make it easier for me to kiss her there. “We’re going to be late.”
“I’m usually late when we hang out. It’s kind of my thing.”
I chuckled. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Probably because you suck at being on time as much as I do, you just rarely have to do it. We snooze my alarm equally at this point.”
“That’s a decent argument.”
She rolled her eyes again, pushing me away playfully. “Alright, let’s go.”
It didn’t take longto get to the bar—which was packed full of college students—or to sit down with her friends in the booth one of them had reserved. It was tucked far enough awayfrom the dancing and the music that we would be able to hear each other speak.
We ended up sitting on the edge of the booth, with Abby sitting next to the woman I knew was Stella, and me sitting next to Abby.
Most of her friends were surprisingly welcoming. Only one of them glared daggers. Her name was Maya, and from what I gathered, that was normal for her. Jade still looked slightly unconvinced, but everyone relaxed while we ate fries and sipped drinks slowly.
The conversation flowed, and I answered questions about the “wilderness retreat” I ran with my friends. Abby and I weren’t sure what else to call it for the humans’ sake, and the label did fit for the most part. Her friends seemed fascinated.
I told stories that thinly veiled what my packmates and I were really doing on our land.
They laughed through their own stories about their classes, college experiences, and other jobs they’d had.
Talking with all of them was easier than I expected, though I would’ve preferred doing it around a campfire.
