Page 21 of The Pocket Pair

I can’t be angry with anyone for the state of my life. Which feels like it’s the shape of a giant question mark. Or maybe one of those infinity symbols, which leaves me walking in a boring circle.

“Why are y’all hugging in a dark alley?”

It’s the second time tonight the three of us have been startled by a man’s voice. Right now, I don’t have anything to even throw. Lindy gives a little shriek, but Winnie sighs and steps away, ending our hug sandwich.

“James—why are you in the alley?” she asks.

“I was walking back to the loft. Heard shouting,” he says.

“It wasn’t shouting,” Winnie clarifies. “More of a discussion.”

James raises one dark eyebrow but says nothing. I can almost hear him thinking, A discussion … with shouting.

“Sounded like fighting to me,” another voice says, this one making the little hairs on my arms stand up and my heart falter before picking up speed. Chevy joins James at the entrance to the alley, leaning on the brick wall.

“You,” Winnie says. “Now I really think you’re following us.”

“Nope,” Chevy says. “Just a small world … after all.”

Winnie groans, but I grin at his cheesy joke. I happen to love cheese. As a food and as a style of joking, in movies, and in emotional moments with my besties. I’m all about the Velveeta everything.

Heartstring tugging greeting cards? Here for it.

Arguably emotionally manipulative commercials with sad dogs in the point? Weirdly, yes. I love them. (And though I don’t want a dog, I donate every time I see one of these commercials.)

Ridiculously cheesy and predictable Hallmark movies where you hold your breath for the kiss in the final two minutes? Give them all to me!

Chevy’s sense of humor? Absolutely.

I study his face as much as I can without looking obvious, searching for any sign that something’s different. A sign that maybe I didn’t imagine the flirtation earlier. That maybe the tension between us wasn’t imaginary or only one way.

But Chevy only smiles the same easy smile that’s made my knees weak for years. The same one he gives his sister. And Mari. And just about everyone he meets.

Disappointment sours my mood. But only a little. Because even if it’s not a special smile for only me, it’s a Chevy smile. My very favorite in the world.

“Can we maybe exit this alley?” he asks. “Not like it’s a safety concern here or anything, but it kind of smells like pee.”

Now that he mentions it…

The five of us reconvene on the sidewalk not a moment before Pat’s truck screeches up to the curb. He hops out, making a beeline for Lindy.

“Who’s with Jo?” she asks.

“Still safely asleep. Collin’s still there,” Pat says before planting a non-Hallmark appropriate kiss on Lindy’s mouth.

I’m grateful at least ONE of my friends isn’t into PDA. Winnie and James tend to keep their kissing under wraps. Which really means in the storage closet at Dark Horse Brewery. I unfortunately discovered the hard way a few weeks ago.

“I wanted to find out where these two jokers snuck off to,” Pat says, giving James and Chevy a look. Neither one offers up why they left or why they’re here. “But I found something better. You ready to go home, darlin’?”

“Wait,” Winnie says. “Give us a second, boys.”

James and Pat retreat a few paces down the sidewalk while Winnie pulls the three of us in, our hands clasped and foreheads touching. It’s something we’ve done forever. I like to think of it as our head huddle, but I never say that out loud because it sounds dumb.

“We’re all gonna be fine,” Lindy says, but she’s sniffling. I feel her trembling next to me, and I give her hand an extra squeeze.

Neither Winnie nor I respond, but we don’t move for a solid minute, just staying connected for a few moments longer. I try to commit it all to memory—the feel of their hands in mine, their smells, the feeling of security and safety with my best friends.

You really want to leave this? The voice in my mind sounds like Winnie.

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