Page 29 of Hard to Judge

“You’ve come so far, Hailey,” she shrieks.

“What?” My head jerks back. “That’s not what I expected you to say.” I cover my mouth, then uncover it. “You heard me say I’m attempting to enter into a polyamorous relationship, right?”

“A triad, yes.” Astor nods.

“And you say I’ve come a long way because…?”

She shakes her pretty head. Her high bun holding tight at the top. The curls give texture around her face. “Six months ago, you couldn’t fuck without being restrained and blindfolded, and facing away from your anonymous partner.”

“My vetted, clean, consenting, anonymous partners. And only once a month.”

“Like I said.” She sighs. “You’ve come a long way. You’re in a committed relationship, and if you two have chosen consciously and equally to pursue this addition, then I support it. As long as you maintain clear communication and established boundaries.”

My gaze narrows. “Who are you, and what have you done with my vanilla bean, dark chocolate bestie?”

“Can’t you just say I’ve come a long way too?” She tosses her hands up and shakes them in question.

“Why? Riling you up is so much more fun.” I waggle my brows. “How is Nash, by the way?”

“Nope.” Astor shakes her head. “Save it for another day.” She stands and smooths down her jeans. “You have to go pick up your plus-one, and I have to get to the diner.”

I stand too, situating my flowing skirt and blouse.

A little pang squeezes my heart. With growth, change is inevitable. I’m thrilled for my first Christmas Eve with Arlo and Hota. Beyond thrilled. But there’s a sadness about leaving behind other traditions.

“Don’t sweat it, Hay Bale.” She pulls me into a hug. I bury my face in the ruffle of her turtleneck. “It’s just another dinner at the diner. We’ll be there again in no time.”

“How about next week?”

“Pops will love it,” she promises.

Still, tears blur my vision. Her father, hell, her entire family has been like a second family to me. This will be the first big event I’ve missed at her father’s diner with the whole ruckus crew.

“If you cry and make me mess up my makeup…” Astor warns.

“How will me crying mess up your makeup?” I blink wildly, willing them away.

“Because I’ll cry, you goof,” she says with a thickness in her voice that preempts a flood.

“Okay. Okay.” I straighten, and we both fan our faces. “You’ll give your dad my Christmas present?”

“Yes. First thing.” She ushers me toward the hallway lined with coats and purses of all shapes, styles, and colors. “He’ll like it more than my presents.”

“He will not.” I booty bump her butt as she leans for a jean duster matching her pants.

She squeaks, catches herself, and then retaliates by kicking one of my low boots across the hallway. I scramble after it, and we’re both laughing.

“What is it, anyway?” She toes on her own low boots, maroon where mine are black.

“Nonrefundable.” I grin and slip on my coat before retrieving my shoes and stuffing my socked feet inside.

“If it’s anything like my present?—”

“Which was selfish and a present for me.” I point out since it is a girls’ trip to Aruba in the spring. Me, her, and Nat.

“He’s going to hate it, isn’t he?” She shrugs on her duster and layers a heavier coat over top.

“Yep.” My hands clap together of their own volition. Not because he’s going to hate it, but because it’s going to make his life a thousand times easier and save him a ton of money. And because it’s expensive. “It’s from me and Arlo.”

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