Page 66 of Shaken

“What?” she asks, and I can’t blame her for being confused.

Same, girl. Same.

“Have you ever done anything that felt completely wrong and completely right at the same time?” That’s the best I can come up with to explain how I’m feeling right now.

She crosses her arms over her chest and narrows her eyes. “That would be a hard no, because I’m not a psychopath.”

“Very funny. Ha ha. There’s this guy...” I start.

“There always is,” she answers.

“Yeah well, I’ve known this one for twenty-five years. And he’s been a pain in my ass for most of them.” I start thinking back through the years. “As much of a pain as he’s always been, I usually enjoyed the bickering. The pushing. The tormenting. Itwasfun.”

“But...?” she pushes.

“But can you build a relationship on that? Because I’ve got to be honest. The idea of putting myself out there freaks me out a whole lot. But the idea of flipping the script on its head and falling in love with this man, who I thought I hated, is seriously fucking with me.” There. I said it to someone.

“Slow your roll, doc. Do you hate him or not? Because I’m pretty sure you’ve got to figurethatout before you worry about anything else. And don’t forget, there’s a fine line between love and hate.”

A fine line between love and hate...

Have I crossed that line?

WREN

Imeet Quinn for breakfast at a little café in town called The Busy Bee on Saturday morning. She’s sitting in a tiny booth with two cups of coffee already waiting for both of us when I sit down across from her. One cup slides my way while my best friend eyes me with a curious expression before she points at my scrubs. “Please tell me they’re clean. Because seriously, Wren, I’m not eating breakfast across from you if you’re covered in baby ick.”

“Baby ick?” I shake my head and open the menu. “They’re clean, smart-ass.”

A young server approaches a moment later, with a notepad in hand and a disinterested look on her face. Mental note. Don’t piss this girl off. She looks like she’d spit in our food.

Quinn orders scrambled eggs before the server, who looks like she’d rather be anywhere but here, waits.

“Could I get chocolate chip waffles with whip cream and bacon, please?”

Quinn kicks me under the table as she walks away. “Since when do you eat sugar for breakfast, Miss Yogurt and Granola?”

“Since I’m eating my feelings. Don’t judge,” I counter and enjoy the look of confusion on Quinn’s face before it morphs into self-satisfaction. “What do you know?”

“Oh no... You’re not getting out of this.” She sits up and leans across the table conspiratorially. “And why are we eating our emotions, Wrenny?”

“We’renot, Quinny. I am. Unless there’s something you haven’t told me.” I feel like we’re playing a game of chess, each of us waiting for the other’s next move.

She bites her lip and tries to hold back a smile but fails miserably. “Fine. What’s with the last-minute brunch date? Not that I don’t like seeing your face, but I wasn’t expecting a text at four in the morning.”

“You do realize most normal people have their texts on silent overnight, right? And that I didn’t expect you to answer me in the middle of the night?” I knew I needed to talk my thoughts out because that’s how I’ve always processed things, and I knew it couldn’t wait. But I didn’t think she’d answer me then. I figured I’d get a text back when she woke up.

“Yeah well, maybe I wasn’t alone. And maybe... just maybe, I forgot to turn my texts off because I was busy.” Excitement pours off her in waves.

“Ohh. Hot bartender?” I ask, happy for the chance to shift the focus to her.

“He has a name,” she chastises with no heat behind her words.

I cock my head to the side and purse my lips through a smile. “I’m sure he does. Buthot bartenderis more fun.”

When she shakes her head, I give in. “Okay, sorry. I was kidding. But seriously, he is gorgeous. What’s his name?”

“Drew.” She throws her napkin at my face, but I catch it instead. “Whatever. Fine. Now stop dancing around and tell me why I’m here today instead of in bed with him, having a very different kind of breakfast.”

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