Page 129 of Best Friends for Never

“I would never do that.”I totallydiddo that.“Now, tell me what you forgot.”

“Youforgot jalapeños, Fritos, shredded cheese, onions, and sour cream.”

“See? We never needed a list.” I stick my tongue out at him.

He rolls his eyes. “Let’s just grab the supplies, smart-ass.”

We wander through the aisles, adding a six-pack of Watermelon Lime wine coolers and a bottle of wine to our basket before heading to the checkout.

Peggy is her usual not-so-chatty self, and we grab our bags and head out toward my mother’s house.

I limp up the sidewalk. We’re just a block from our destination, and then I can sit at the counter, make my Tater Tots, and get a break. I heft the grocery bag in my arms up higher.

Noel sighs. “Would you just let me hold that?”

“No. You’re already holding all the other groceries.”

“Yeah, and that’s the heaviest bag. Just give it to me.”

I cut him a glare, and he snaps his mouth shut. “Fine. Then struggle.”

“You’re so annoying,” I mutter to him as we turn into my mother’s driveway.

“That’s not what you were calling me this morning. I believe the wordssex godwere used once or twice.”

I roll my eyes. “You wish.”

Though, to be fair, that assessment wouldn’t be far off.

He just laughs, then helps me up the porch steps.

I whirl around to face him once we reach the door.

“Now, I’m going to open this door, and we arenotgoing to discuss our sex life. At all. Understood?”

He nods, barely holding in a grin. “Understood.”

“Good.”

I push open the door, not bothering to knock.

“Mom!” I call out, taking off my shoes. “We’re here!”

“And we are definitely not talking about our sex life, so don’t even ask!” Noel yells.

“Noel!” I hiss, glaring at him, and I hear my mother laugh.

“Good to know,” she hollers back. “We’re in the kitchen!”

This time, I’m not surprised by the use ofwe. Clifford’s been joining us for Tater Tot Tuesdays since he and my mother went public.

At first, I wasn’t sure how I felt about my mother dating. Not because I didn’t believe she shouldn’t, but because she never had before. But she and Clifford are perfect together. They complement each other so well that I’ve often wondered why they didn’t get together much earlier.

We make our way back to them, and I’m unsurprised to find her at the stove, stirring away.

“Chili is just about ready,” she says over her shoulder.

“Perfect, because I’m starving,” I tell her, setting the bag of groceries on the counter and practically falling onto a stool. My shoulders sink in relief. “Oh, gosh. That feels good.”

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