No way. He can't be here for this. I’ll turn into a speechless freak and spend my entire time here staring.
“There’s the sister I always wanted and finally have,” Beth announces when she sees me claiming a stool, doing this after visually clearing the room of large, manly objects.
She smiles big, walking over to stand across from me in her worn Van Morrison tee and waitress apron tied around her tiny waist. Her long, dark hair is down and looking extra wavy, her skin is glowing, her finger is sparkling from the new rock decorating it, and she’s got this cool double-winged thing going on with her eyeliner, which is a look I’m totally stealing.
“Your eyes look awesome like that,” I share, never feeling the need to keep a compliment inside when it has potential to brighten someone’s day.
Beth drops a coaster down on the bar, smiling at me. “Thanks,” she says. “You want something? It’s on the house. You know, since we’re family and all.”
“You love saying that, don’t you?” I ask, wearing my own smile and not being able to help that one bit.
I love Beth Davis from McGill’s. I love her even more now that she’s Beth Tennyson and looking like the happiest girl in Ruxton, Alabama.
She shrugs, admitting, “Maybe a little.” Then slides the coaster closer to me. “Drink?”
“No, thanks. I can’t stay long.”
I watch her slide the coaster away and add it to a small pile, noticing how dark the skin on her arm has gotten since I last saw her.
“So, how was the honeymoon?” I ask. I haven’t spoken to Beth since I called right after breaking the news to CJ. I didn’t want to bother her and Reed anymore. “I see my brother untied you long enough you were able to lay out a little.”
Beth’s eyes go wide before quickly cutting away. “I can’t believe I told you he does that,” she murmurs to a spot on the bar with the reddest cheeks I’ve ever seen. She looks at me again, quickly stressing, “On occasion.”
“Right. And by that you mean, every day that ends with a ‘y’?”
She squints, lifts her eyes, and begins ticking off the days of the week in her head, by the looks of it, nodding through the process. After finishing up on Sunday, I guess, she focuses on me again.
“The honeymoon was everything I could’ve hoped for. Let’s just leave it at that.”
Laughing, I prop my elbow on the bar and rest my chin on my fist.
“Hey, Riley Girl,” Ms. Hattie says, walking behind Beth and smiling at me. “You want anything? Something to eat?”
Hattie is Beth’s aunt and owns McGill’s with her husband, Danny. She’s crazy sweet.
“No thanks,” I reply. “I’m not staying.”
“You sure?” She comes up to stand beside Beth. “Got Big Jon back there whipping up some of that tasty macaroni salad you liked so much last time you came `round. Fresh batch.” She smiles when I shake my head, then gives me a wink. “All right. You change your mind, you just holler out.”
Hattie moves down the bar, grabbing a bottle on her way.
“I’ll never look at all that rope in the bed of my brother’s truck the same again,” I tell Beth when her aunt gets out of earshot, just because I can’t help myself and I’m dying to say it.
Beth makes a face.
I make one back.
“How’s it going with Richard?” she asks after tossing a balled up napkin at my head. “Are you guys happy now that you’re back together? Or,” she tilts her head, “since you didn’t really break up, I guess I should say, now that you’re still together? Whatever. Are things better now?”
My phone begins vibrating from the front pocket of my scrubs. I reach for it while answering Beth. “Uh, yeah, sort of.”
“Sort of?”
“Well, you know, it’s just . . . taking some time. He’s stressed out with the whole job hunting thing right now.” I slide my thumb across the screen and pull up the text.
“He still hasn’t found a job?”
CJ: Thought about your boobs earlier but I kept it on a friendly level. Just wanted you to know how committed I am to this arrangement.
Laughter catches in my throat.
“How do you think about boobs on a friendly level?” I quietly ask myself while reading the text again.
“Riley.”
“Mm?” I lift my eyes to Beth. “Oh, sorry. What did you ask me?”
She looks at the phone in my hand, then back into my face. “Did you just say something about friendly boobs?” She points at the device. “Is that Richard?”
Crap.
“Uh.”
My hand buzzes with the next vibration. A new text.
I’m not going to read it. I’m going to keep looking at Beth, and I’m going to answer her original question.
If I can remember it.
CJ: Didn’t even picture nipple. That takes dedication.
I can’t remember it so I read the text. And I totally laugh, again.
Why does he have to be so damn funny on top of being everything else?
“Riley.”
“Yes. Right here.” I put the phone down on the bar and look at her. “Repeat what you just asked me. I’m listening. I swear.”
Beth’s dark, perfectly sculpted brows pull together. “Well,” she begins, eyes dancing between the phone and my face. “Let me think. I asked several things.” She drums her blue painted nails on the bar and ponders for a few seconds.
“I'm just going to respond to this really quick while you think. I'm paying attention, I promise, I just don't want to be rude,” I tell her, grabbing my phone again.
Me: Kinda weird that ur picturing my boobs without nipples.
I start to look up, but a new vibration drops my gaze back down.
CJ: You giving me the go ahead to picture nip? Fantastic. My day is looking up.
Me: Friends don't picture each other's boobs. No boobs or nip allowed.
CJ: You friend-zone me and it's a boob-free zone?
Oh, Lord.
Me: NO BOOBS OR NIP.
CJ: Should've been up front with that disclaimer. Can't be adding rules to this shit now. It's too late.
Me: These are unspoken rules that apply to every friendship. I don't picture Beth's boobs.
CJ: Totally imagining you picturing Beth's boobs right now.
Me: WHAT?!
CJ: Now she's thinking about yours.
“Oh, my God,” I murmur, shaking my head through a laugh.
“Why are you and CJ discussing my boobs?”
Beth's voice jerks my head up and our eyes lock, hers so close to mine now I can count her lashes.
I guess I wasn't paying attention and held my phone out for curious eyes. Eyes that are apparently very capable of reading upside down.
Perfect.
This is so not how I wanted to broach this topic.
“Did you two always text?” she asks when I don't answer, leaning away but staying propped on her elbows. “You and CJ?”
“Uh.” I put my phone down and saw my teeth over my bottom lip. “No, but—”
“I didn't think you two really even knew each other. How long has this been going on?” she interrupts.
“Didn't you ask me something about Richard?” I suggest, growing nervous from her line of questioning. “Right? Weren't you trying to remember what you asked me? Why don't we focus on those questions first and then we can move on? Did you remember them?”