Page 9 of Fabulous Filthy Friend

I’m self-aware enough to know all these things, yet my heart won’t let me open it to anyone else when I see the perfect woman almost every day.

And I need to break myself of this obsession before I say or do something that crosses a line with her and drives her away. She can’t see how she affects me. That would be like a neon sign screaming Flynn is in love with you! Flynn is in love with you!

So instead of kissing that enticing smile from her lips, I force myself to grin at her and contemplate how to rescue the bowl before she causes even more of a disaster. “Yeah, I have my moments.”

* * *

RACHEL

He has more than his moments.

Flynn is hilarious, and he knows it. The self-deprecating humor is classic for him, though. He always leaves me smiling and laughing even when I feel like shit, which is exactly how we became such fast friends.

I needed that when I moved here, having just lost Mom, and I still do. Someone who can always make me happy even in my darkest times.

Her death left a gaping hole in my heart that may never heal, one that was ripped open again with Dad’s recent death and dealing with Bash and Jameson’s bullshit through it all. Though, having Flynn around has helped the edges of that hole scar up a little. I’m not sure I would have made it through the last few months without him. So much of what makes Flynn a great person is what his parents instilled in him—respect for others, faith in humanity, and a caring nature that oozes from every pore.

After my call with Alicia last night—and once I had finished watching HRD4U’s performance and myself—I couldn’t help wondering if the solace he finds in church is something I shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss. Maybe there’s something to it I’ve been ignoring without really experiencing it myself.

I stir the batter, sending more splashing over the rim. In all the years we’ve been friends, I’ve never actually gone to Mass with him and his mom, only met them for coffee and breakfast a few times after. But it could be time to try something different. “Are you heading to church later?”

He nods, leans in, and tugs the bowl from me. “You can’t be trusted with this.”

I drop open my jaw in mock annoyance.

He flashes me his patented grin, his grayish-blue eyes glinting. The muscles on his bicep flex and pull against the fabric of his T-shirt as he whisks the batter. “Yeah, we’re going to eleven o’clock Mass. Mom had something going on this morning beforehand.”

“Is it okay if I come with you?”

The question surprises even me, despite having been thinking about it since last night. I can’t remember the last time I was in a church, let alone willingly. Even for Mom’s and Dad’s funerals, we had simple viewings at the funeral home, nothing religious. But for some reason, it seems like the right place to be this morning. Probably more because of the company than the location.

He turns his head and examines me for a minute like he doesn’t recognize who he’s looking at. Then slowly, a grin pulls at his lips. “Of course. You know my mom loves you.”

“And I her.” That gaping hole might never completely go away, but Emily McAllister has sure helped ease some of the pain there as much as Flynn has.

I can see where Flynn gets it from—his kindness, his good heart, his sense of humor, even his good looks. Niall McAllister was nothing to sneeze at either based on the pictures I’ve seen of him, but Emily is drop-dead gorgeous—striking sandy-blond hair, a shade lighter than Flynn’s and gray-blue eyes, he inherited from her. I wish I’d gotten a chance to meet his dad, but he died when Flynn was young. That’s part of why he simply got it when I told him I had recently lost Mom. He understood the loss, the anguish, the desire to hide away and forget the world. But he didn’t let me. His forcing me to stay active, to go out with him, to do something, even if it was simply watching a movie, really helped me get through the worst. First, when I moved here, and then again, when Dad died.

Flynn’s a mama’s boy through and through. And that’s a huge compliment.

He knows how to treat the women in his life, which is one reason I’m so protective of him when Alicia tries to set him up. He’s a real catch. Any woman would be lucky to have him as a boyfriend or husband.

It’s too bad mama’s boys don’t do it for me. I’ll just have to continue the hunt for a guy with a heart of gold who’s also filthy in the bedroom.

He watches me from the corner of his eye. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Rach, you’re more than welcome, but why do you want to come to church?”

It’s a fair question. But I’m not sure the answer is so simple. “After our talk yesterday and then one I had with Alicia last night, I decided I wasn’t going to wallow anymore. There have been too many bad things in my life recently. Things I let throw me off my game and get me off course. I’m ready to get back on a good one.”

A tiny smile plays at his lips. “And this new course involves finding religion?”

I bark out a laugh. “Doubtful, but you always seem to really feel centered and calm after Sunday Mass and coffee with your mom. I just think maybe it would be nice to join. Kind of a fresh start.”

He considers my answer for a moment. “I’m glad you’re not letting that d-bag get to you anymore.”

“Nope.” I nod toward the stove behind us. “I got the griddle heating.”

“Great, we should be all set.” He turns away and sets the bowl next to the stove. “I assume you want chocolate chips?”

“Hell yeah!” My sweet tooth is aching for something.

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