Page 62 of Best Friends for Never

“Damn right we are,” Clifford grumbles.

She bangs her gavel against the podium, and a few bids go up around the room. Soon Clifford’s worth at least $175 and looking pretty damn proud of it.

I tune them out as I spy Parker’s mother waltzing over to me with a cup of coffee in her hand. She can’t even give it up for one night.

“Astrid, you look lovely tonight.”

Parker’s mother grins, then waves her hand over her floor-length dress, which looks like something somebody would wear to Coachella. “This? Bah. It’s nothing. I thrifted it years back. Now, about you and my daughter.”

“Pardon?”

She laughs. “Please. You can’t fool me. But just so you know, if you two are going to sneak off together and pretend like nothing happened, you might not want to make googly eyes at one another.”

I shake my head, ready to deny everything, but it’s pointless, especially with Astrid’s knowing look.

“It was nothing.”

Her usually cheerful eyes narrow to slits in an instant. “It had better not be nothing, Noel. That’s my baby girl.”

In all my years of knowing her, I’ve never heard such seriousness from Astrid Pruitt. Sure, she’s been like a mother to me, but like a fun mother who lets you do and get away with anything.

But right now ... Well, she looks downright scary, staring up at me with sharp eyes.

She steps into me, lowering her voice. “If this is nothing ...” She shakes her head. “Well, then, I don’t think it’s a good idea if you stay around, even if you did promise to. That’s not fair to her—or you, for that matter.”

“It’s not . . . I just meant . . .”

“I know what you meant. I’m just telling you that you’d better know what you’re doing when it comes to her. Parker is strong and resilient, but even the toughest people have limits.”

I understand where she’s coming from. I truly do.

But in all fairness, I didn’t mean to hurt Parker the first time around. I was just looking for something more out of life. Something different that would allow me to really follow my passion for acting.

I think the hardest pill to swallow is that all this time, that thing I was looking for ... it might have been right here.

I know I have to go back to LA after my time here is up, and I want to do that, but the rush to do so doesn’t feel as pressing anymore, and I’m not quite sure what to make of that.

But that’s not a problem I want to deal with right now. I have bigger things to worry about, like figuring out when I can get Parker alone again.

“Understood, son?” she prompts, wanting a response from me.

I nod. “Understood, Astrid.”

“Good. That’s good.” She takes a sip of her coffee. “Well, I’m off to bid. But one last thing?”

“Yes?”

“My daughter’s lipstick is on your collar.” Then she throws her hand up and yells, “Five hundred for Clifford!”

I stare in shock as Astrid pushes her way to the front of the crowd, steps onto the small stage they’ve erected, grabs Clifford by the shirt, and drags him off into the crowd like he isn’t her mortal enemy.

What in the hell just happened?

Apparently, Parker has the same thought, her mouth ajar and eyes twice their size as her mother moves through the bodies standing around. Half the people are laughing, and half are just as shocked as we are.

“Well, then.” Parker laughs lightly. “I’m definitely going to need that story later.”

The crowd chuckles along with her as she shuffles her cards.

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