Page 13 of The Pocket Pair

James meets my eyes, looking ninety-five percent exasperated and five percent amused.

I shrug. “I’d say it’s more like the basis of your molecular composition. But it works for you, buddy.”

At least, it did with my sister. And in an extreme opposites-attract bromance, James is the brother I’ve become closest to. Which mostly has to do with the fact he’s dating Winnie. They say to keep your friends close and your enemies closer, but a more practical modern application is to keep your friends close and your sister’s boyfriend closer.

At first, it was to make sure he was treating Winnie right. Then, when I realized how completely gone James is for her, I relaxed and began to enjoy his particular brand of grumpy. The man may be a slab of granite (both physically and in his personality), but he’s a gooey, toasted marshmallow for my sister. I find it endlessly amusing.

Also, knowing Winnie was able to move past the issues I’m still stuck behind, that she’s really giving this love thing a go—well, I wouldn’t say it gives me hope, exactly, but it makes me feel less defeated.

“No one is buying face yoga from an Instagram ad.” James says this like he’s talking about purchasing a vial of the Ebola virus from a back alley.

Pat’s eyes take on a gleam I’ve come to know well. “Try and stop me.”

“This article says it stimulates your lymphatic system,” Collin says, continuing to scroll. “That’s science, James. And it can improve the structural appearance of your face. I’ll split the cost with you, Patty. We can share an account. Like Netflix.”

“You’re both idiots.” James shakes his head and takes a sip of his beer.

I find myself trailing a finger over the bandages on my knuckles. I told Val I’d trade them out for a more masculine option, but the truth is, I kind of like them. They remind me of her.

“What happened?” James asks, nodding toward my hand.

What DID happen? To be honest, I’m not sure I could answer if I wanted to.

Ever since yesterday, Mrs. Fleming’s words and Mari’s words have been ringing in my ears. The comparison to my father. The question of my happiness. The accusation that I’m fighting ghosts.

I don’t say any of that, though I suspect James would relate to the wall-punching.

“Occupational hazard,” I tell him.

“Did you pick out the bandages yourself?”

I channel my inner hand model and twirl my wrist so he can see all the angles. “You like? I’ve got the box in my Mustang if you need one.”

He only grunts as Pat and Collin argue loudly about which level of program they should buy. Because apparently, they’re doing this.

I lean closer to James. “Do you think this is better or worse than whatever the ladies are discussing at their book club?”

James scoffs. “I’d rather be a fly on the wall there. Because I’m pretty sure they don’t discuss books.”

“What do you think they do talk about?” I’ve always wondered.

Our mother was a member of the LLLS, and Winnie took her spot after Mom died. Neither one ever said a word about what happens in one of the meetings.

It’s got to beat a discussion about face yoga and weak chins.

“No idea,” James says. “I heard Mari whispering about some kind of big news when I was picking up lunch at the diner.”

I try to keep my expression level. Big news? Like … pregnancy big?

“We could crash the meeting,” I suggest casually.

James raises one dark eyebrow. “Yeah?”

I tilt my head toward Pat and Collin. “It’s got to be more riveting than this conversation.”

Which is true. But also … I need answers. Less about what goes on in Sheet Cake’s secretive “book” club and more about Mari’s big secret. Especially if it involves Val.

I also need a different kind of answer. I need to know what was up with the fireworks between Val and me that practically blew the roof off the CVS. Who even has a moment in CVS?

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