A groan works it's way out of his throat. "Stop tempting me."
"You know it'd be fun."
Before he can answer, the radio in his SUV goes off, and he answers. I lift my hand in a wave, and watch as he drives off with lights and sirens. After that, I'm left in the quiet of the night, and all I'm waiting on is for the clock to turn to midnight, so that I can go home.
Chapter 14
Molly
"Why do you look so happy?"
The voice coming from my phone is the voice of my best friend. We're on FaceTime while she's finishing up an order she's working on, and I'm working Rosemary oil into my hair to promote growth. "Because I am. Plus I just took an everything shower. My legs are smooth, my hair is washed, and it feels good. I think the better question is why do you appear to be in such a bad mood?"
She frowns. "This order has been a pain in my ass. Nothing has gone right, and I'm irritated. Sorry I'm taking it out on you."
"That's what best friends are for. Sometimes we have bad days, and that's okay. I just wanted to make sure it wasn't my brother."
"No." She grins, a faraway look in her eyes. "He's as good to me as he always has been. Things with him are going great."
The jealousy that's been in my chest the last few times she's said something like that isn't there this time, and I have to believe that part of it is Dakota and I have decided not to continue hiding our relationship. The weird thing is, I can't bring myself to say it out loud to Magnolia Grace, though. It might take longer than I thought it would.
"I'm glad," I tell her, and I mean it. I’m not just saying it to be polite. My brother deserves someone who looks at him the way Magnolia does, and she deserves a man who shows up for her the way Levi does. "You two have been good for each other."
"We have," she agrees, glancing up from whatever she's doing with her hands just long enough to smile at the camera. "Now stop deflecting and tell me why you look like that."
"Like what?"
"Like someone who got really good news, or really good…"
"Magnolia Grace," I cut her off, but I'm laughing, and she knows me well enough to know what that means even when I'm not saying the words out loud.
We talk for a few more minutes about nothing in particular. It’s just nice to have a conversation that doesn’t involve hiding my relationship or dealing with someone about to have a baby.
That's when my phone buzzes against the bed beside me with a text notification, and I glance down, expecting it to be Dakota or Levi or someone from the hospital, but the name that comes up on my screen isn't any of those.
It's Lucy.
I stare at it for just a second, because Lucy and I text sometimes, but not often enough that a message from her at two in the afternoon on a day off feels entirely expected. I hold up a finger to Magnolia. "Give me one second."
I tap the message open.
Lucy: Hey Molly!! Mom and I are going to Polly's Pottery this afternoon and I told her I wanted to invite you. Please say yes, I need someone to talk to who isn't going to make me paint a coffee mug and call it a day.
I press my lips together to keep the smile from taking over my whole face, because Lucy Keller at sixteen years old has more personality than most adults I know, and the fact that she thought to text me at all to invite me feels like Dakota and I are moving into much more serious territory than either of us predicted.
My first instinct, if I'm being completely honest with myself, is to make an excuse. I'm good at making excuses. I've had a lot of practice over the years when it comes to anything that feels like it's moving too fast or getting too real too quickly. I could tell her I have laundry to do, or that I promised my parents I'd come by, or that I've got an early shift tomorrow and need to rest. All of those things are technically true in the way that things can be technically true without actually being the reason you're saying them.
But then I think about Dakota standing in that parking lot outside the bowling alley with his hands in his pockets, telling me in a voice low enough that it was only ever meant for me that someday that was going to be the two of us. And I think about the fact that I believe him, which is the scariest and also the most settled I've felt about anything in a long time.
If I want to be a part of his life — really a part of it, not just the secret part that happens behind closed doors after dark — then his family comes with that.
Spending an afternoon at a pottery place with the two of them is not a big ask. It's actually a pretty nice afternoon, all things considered.
I type back before I can talk myself out of it.
M: I would love to. What time are y'all heading over?
Her response comes back in under thirty seconds.