Page 70 of Just Friends

A grin stretches across my mouth as his eyes dart my way and obvious relief eases the tension in his shoulders. “Really? That’s awesome,” I tell him.

“You’re not upset?” he asks.

“No,” I say. “I’m really, really not. I’m glad some good could come of these dates. They’ve been instruments of torture for me since the beginning.”

A laugh barks out of Parker, and Adam snorts. “Why did you agree to this in the first place?” Parker asks. “I know it couldn’t have beenyouridea.”

I push a hand through my sweaty hair as the sun beats down on my already too-warm skin. “No, definitely not. I guess I thought I could convince Hazel that the person she was looking for was me.”

“She’ll figure it out,” Parker says, his eyes softening, and my hands tighten on the basketball, the gritty texture biting into my fingers.

“Probably not,” Adam says, and I chuck the ball at him. He catches it with a laugh. “You’re too easy to mess with.”

I ignore him, holding back the smile that threatens to break loose. “What time is it?”

Adam consults his watch and says, “Ten.”

Crossing into the shade of the garage to retrieve a water bottle from the fridge, I say, “I better go. Can I borrow a puzzle from your old lady cave?”

“I wish you wouldn’t refer to my bedroom that way,” Adam says, moving past me toward the heavy metal door leading into the house.

I follow after him with Parker on my heels. “You have an entire cabinet full of puzzles in there, so I wouldn’t expect me to stop anytime soon.”

Adam’s house is a midsize ranch built in the eighties. Unlike so many of the homes on the southeast side of Nashville, he didn’t tear this one down in order to build a modern farmhouse on the lot. It retains all the old if somewhat out of style character from the original builders. But it fits Adam and Kelsey, who are more practical than stylish, making everything feel cozy and lived-in.

My shoes scuff against the plush carpets in the hallway leading to his bedroom.

“What kind of puzzle do you want?” Adam asks, opening his bedroom door and going directly for the oak hutch in the corner. When he opens the cabinet door, stacks and stacks of puzzles fill the entirety of the space, organized in a way only Adam himself understands.

“Cardboard?” I say, and it comes out like a question.

Adam glares at me over his shoulder. “How many pieces? Landscape, animal, art piece, movie-themed?”

I blink at him for a moment, processing. “Do you have any butterflies?”

Adam nods, closing the top cabinet and opening the bottom. It’s just as full, and he trails his fingers over the glossy boxes until he finds the one he’s looking for. Pulling it free, the pieces jostling against the sides, he hands it to me.

The box is green, showing a field of wildflowers. It’s zoomed in to display fluffy white dandelions, a couple of yellow and blue flowers, and a swarm of butterflies. A smile tugs at my lips.

“This is perfect. Thanks, Adam.”

He grunts. “Don’t lose any pieces.”

“I’ll just lose one. To drive you nuts for the rest of eternity,” I say with a wink.

Parker interjects, no doubt seeing the steam pouring from Adam’s ears, and says, “Adam and I usually get dinner at that sports bar down the road on Thursdays, if you want to come this week.”

I glance between them, my gaze fixing on Adam, who surprisingly doesn’t seem to mind Parker inviting me. Nodding, I tell them, “Sure. See you then.”

“Bring my puzzle back with all the pieces, Alex,” Adam calls after me as I leave, and I can’t help but smile.

HazelisalonewhenI let myself into her apartment. I’ve got milkshakes in a cardboard carrier in one hand, and the puzzle box gripped in the other. There’s a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and the batteredEmmapaperback lying open in her lap. Hazel’s mouth lifts in a smile when she sees me, but it doesn’t touch her tired eyes or bring pink back into her pale cheeks. Worry clenches around my chest in a vise grip, cutting off my oxygen.

“Are you okay?” I ask, dropping the puzzle box and milkshakes onto the coffee table with a thud. I drop down into a squat next to her. “How’s your head? Have you gotten more dizzy? Nausea?”

Her lips curve as she sits up, and this time, the grin is genuine. “I’m fine, I promise. Lucy only left like ten minutes ago.”

The relief punches me in the gut, and I rock back on my heels, pushing my hands through my hair.

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