Page 2 of Screwed

Arlo seems different though.

“Why don’t you just ask him out already?” Madelyn asks from right behind me and I shriek.

I jump around, staring at her with wide eyes and she smirks at me. Her black hair is braided and hanging over one shoulder. She’s wearing a plain T-shirt and a pair of skinny jeans. She’s dressed casually, but she looks effortlessly chic. I look like an old maid standing next to her in my long floral-print skirt and pale-pink button-up blouse with the Peter Pan collar.

“You scared the crap out of me,” I hiss at her and she laughs.

“Yeah, I got that from the yelling and spinning around,” she deadpans.

I look over my shoulder and sure enough, Arlo is staring in our direction. He raises his hand in a wave and I hurry to turn around.

“Let’s go inside,” I whisper to Madelyn and she rolls her eyes and sighs but follows me into my store, Blast From The Past Antiques.

“You should just talk to him,” she tells me as the door closes behind us.

I can still see him through the front windows and I try not to be obvious that I’m watching him like a weirdo.

“I can’t. I should be getting ready to close up shop and then we have to get ready for girls’ night,” I tell her and it sounds like a lame excuse even to my own ears.

We both know that all of our friends would be more than okay with me being a few minutes late if it was because I was talking to Arlo.

“Oh, come on, Iris! Besides, girls’ night is tomorrow night,” Madelyn reminds me and I turn away from the window to focus on my friend.

Madelyn likes to talk with her hands when she’s worked up and having her in my shop when she’s like that is one of the worst places that she could be.

“Shouldn’t you be getting home to Flynn?” I ask her, trying to change the subject.

“He’s picking me up in a few minutes,” she says, waving me off and coming dangerously close to knocking over a vase from the 1860s.

“How are things going between the two of you?” I ask her as I try to maneuver her closer to the register and front counter, where there are fewer breakables.

“Great. Everything is perfect between us,” she says, a wide smile curving her lips. “Now back to you and Arlo.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” I argue and she snorts.

“Everyone knows that you two like each other. Everyone knows that he would say yes or ask you out if you just gave him an inkling that you felt the same way.”

“That’s not what I’m afraid of,” I admit to her. “What happens when things go sour?”

“Who’s to say that things would go sour?”

“History,” I tell her flatly and she sighs.

“You and history,” she grumbles and I frown.

“Those who don’t know history,” I start.

“Are doomed to repeat it,” she finishes for me and I give her a pointed look.

She rolls her eyes and I make sure that the cash register is locked before I dig my keys out of my purse.

“Iris, you have to get out and live life. If I can face my fears and tell Flynn how I felt about him, if I can risk my friendship with him, then you should tell Arlo that you like him too.”

“Yeah, you told Flynn that you loved him when he was literally hours away from leaving town. You didn’t have a whole lot left to lose,” I point out to her dryly.

“I still did it, so it still counts,” she says primly and I huff out a laugh.

I see Flynn pull up in front of my shop and I start to relax. This inquisition will be over soon and I can head home and forget all about my pesky feelings for Arlo. Flynn waves at Arlo as he climbs out of his car and heads toward the front door.

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