Page 7 of Just Friends

“Oh, um,” she struggled with recollection.

“Mrs. Whittaker,” Weasel said.

“That’s right, Mrs. Whittaker,” Rebecca stated. “She made a scarf for Weasel and insisted on giving me something too.” Reaching over, she played with the end of the scarf still draped around his shoulders. Stop touching him.

After they finished eating, the parents, the marrieds, and the life partners all ditched her, and she was alone with Weasel. He was now her ride home. It was a little too convenient. Her friends were matchmaking.

They sat in the Ferris Wheel and crawled up a basket at a time while others loaded onto the ride. Goosebumps rose on her arms, and she shivered. He slid an arm around her shoulder, pressing her to his side. She hated to admit that it felt safe and dangerous for two different reasons. Whenever he touched her, there was a zing of awareness.

“So,” she added after the basket continued to rise and stop. "I’ve known you for like four years, and I have no idea what your real name is.”

“My real name?”

“Yeah, the one your mama gave you.”

He smiled. “I don’t know about who gave it to me. I never knew her; she bailed before I can remember.”

Well, she stepped in it there. “I’m sorry.”

“It is what it is,” he replied squeezing her tighter. “I asked Dalton, my oldest brother, about her a couple of times. He said that I was hatched out of an egg, so maybe I was.”

Laughing, she pressed her fingers to her lips. “That’s terrible of him.”

“Brothers,” he said with a shrug and a smile. Weasel fished around behind him and brought out his badge giving it to her. “Here, lift it.” But her eyes had focused on one word on the top of the badge. She’d seen this thing a million times and never once paid attention. The golden badge emblazoned with the word “Detective.”

“Detective? Since when?”

“Couple of years.”

“You never mentioned anything?” she asked.

He shrugged. “No biggie.”

“It’s a pretty big promotion, right? You didn’t tell any of us.”

He shrugged again like it was no big deal. Rebecca sighed and lifted the badge to reveal his White Oak Police Department Identification card and read, “Harlan Anderson.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Where did Weasel come from? I mean, even the teachers called you that.”

He shrugged. “That’s just what they always called me at home.”

Rebecca nodded and gave his badge back. “That seems sad,” she whispered, pondering his words.

“Don’t feel sorry for me. If he meant it as derogatory. I was never gonna give that bastard the satisfaction of keeping me down. I embraced the nickname and made it my own.”

It became ten degrees hotter in the basket. She squirmed. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t, darlin’. It’s okay.” Weasel’s arm slid over her shoulders bringing her back to him. She hadn’t realized that she’d moved away.

The Ferris Wheel basket they were riding in crested the top of the wheel, and the lit up festival was displayed beneath them. It would be a stunning view at sunset, but this was pretty. She settled back against Weasel and took in the town in miniature below, and the lights spread out around them adding a touch of romance. The perfect moment for a kiss. She wanted to. She considered looking at him to see if he would kiss her. However, she shouldn’t go there with Weasel. There was a multitude of reasons he was a bad idea. She needed to remember each of them right now and not focus on the romantic setting. She went out with Kyle because he came across reserved, sweet, and quiet, but once behind closed doors, he was manipulative, angry, and had a nasty temper. She could imagine what a loud, alpha male like Weasel was like when he was mad.

Rebecca expected him to make another move on her, but he didn’t. After Hannah’s wedding, she’d told him they were only friends. She struggled to let him down easy. It had been difficult but necessary. After everything with Kyle, she wouldn’t get involved again, but Weasel wasn’t a relationship guy. He was a one-night guy, and they had a common group of friends. It wouldn’t work.

“Your dad raised you, then? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“You can ask me anything you want.” He paused and shrugged. “Raised by my old man isn’t the right way to describe it. He was a drunk. So, my brothers and I kinda raised ourselves.”

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