“Don’t bother denying it, Sinclair,” he said, clinking his glass to hers.
She glared at his back as he moved toward the rest of the group, and he turned around at the last minute.
“Emma.”
“What?” Her voice was testy.
“I think about it, too.”
Well. Well. That…called for more wine.
Except her glass was already full, so instead she sighed and decided that there was a damn good reason they’d put up all that ice between them. Time to reinstall it before he made any more precarious trips down memory lane.
She joined everyone at the kitchen counter, where they’d gathered around the appetizers like vultures.
“Em, any update on your apartment?” Jake asked.
“Nope, but it’s not my problem anymore,” Emma said, picking up an olive. “My renter’s insurance check is in the mail, and I gave notice to my landlord, so even if it is all fixed up, I won’t be moving back in. I was month to month anyway, so it was an easy out.”
“Thank God,” Riley muttered. “Can you imagine the smell? Like rot and mildew and upstairs neighbor’s dirty water and mud—”
“So what’s next?” Grace asked, ignoring Riley’s rant.
Emma shrugged. “Camille’s not back for another two months, so I’ve got awhile to figure it out.”
“You better not leave the Uppers,” Julie said. “I need solidarity up here in classy-town while these hip friends of ours hang out in the Village and Tribeca.”
“Um, sorry, but whose lease in the Village did I take over?” Riley said tapping her lip. “Was that yours, Jules?”
Julie changed the subject. “Hey, Cassidy, Mitchell has something to ask you,” she said in a loud voice, quieting all other conversation.
Mitchell glared at her. “Not here I don’t.”
“Yeah, of course here,” Julie chirped, tilting her head. “He can’t say no to you here.”
“Oh, I absolutely can,” Cassidy said, raising his glass in Mitchell’s direction. “But you might as well get it over with. Is it about the triathlon we talked about, because I’m totally in—”
“Shut it, Cassidy,” Riley said, stuffing a piece of baguette in his mouth. “Let Mitchell do the talking.”
“Because he’s so good at that,” Jake said, earning the middle finger from his friend.
Mitchell ran a hand over the back of his neck. “I, well, the thing is—”
“Oh, I’ll do it,” Julie interrupted. “So, Cassidy, you know we get married in a few weeks….”
Cassidy slowly chewed the bread Riley had stuffed in his mouth before replying. “I am aware of this.”
“Well, Mitchell here has, like, zero friends, because he’s antisocial.”
“Introverted,” Mitchell ground out. “The word you’re looking for is introverted, and we introverts have small, selective circles of friends.”
“Hear, hear,” Emma said.
Mitchell winked at her.
“Yeah, okay, whatever,” Julie said, waving this aside. “Anyway, one of the people in his ‘selective friend group’?”—Julie put this last part in air quotes—“is this guy from college. Whose baby was just born.”
“Oh, yay!” Grace said.
“Well, yes. Yay. Except the wee one was four weeks premature, and though she’s just fine, she’ll need to be in the hospital for a bit while her lungs develop. So no flying from California to New York on this family’s agenda. So…”
Julie glanced between Mitchell and Cassidy and wiggled her eyebrows.
Cassidy stared at her blankly. As did Jake and Sam. All four women rolled their eyes at the sheer density of the male mind.
“He wants you to be a groomsman, stupid,” Riley said. “Probably would have asked before if Emma hadn’t been a bridesmaid and the whole thing hadn’t smelled awkward back then.”
“Oh, and it’s not awkward now?” Sam muttered.
Julie glanced from Emma to Cassidy. “Well, we understand how things are now. And we know they’re not weird. Right?”
Emma didn’t look at Cassidy. He didn’t look at her. But they answered in unison. “Right.”