Page 3 of Reclaimed

She ticks up her brow again and I nearly laugh.

“What brings you back?” I ask, sinking my shoulder against the brick for support.

“Life. I missed home. Got bored of the city.”

Now that pulls a reluctant chuckle free.

“What?” she asks.

I can’t fight the way my eyes trace over her from head to shoe. “Somehow I doubt that.”

She gives me a haughty twist of her lips and flicks out a hand. “Can’t the country girl miss wide open spaces?”

“With that sparkle? You’re much too pretty for these dirty pastures. Always have been.” I slip my hands into my pockets.

Her face registers shock before she schools it back into impassivity.

“You’re an incredible dancer,” I blurt, the words falling from my tongue without a filter.

She smirks. The cocky tilt punches me straight in the chest. “I know.”

I lick my lips. “I know you don’t need me to boost your ego or anything. That’s not why I said it. I’ve just been spending a lot of time around here, and I’ve seen you.”

Her lips drop a little and her eyes scan my face. The crease forming between her brows is one of concern. “I know,” she repeats softly.

I’m not sure what to make of that, and I’m not in the place to ask. That familiar feeling slinks into my chest, something dark and inky that coats my insides with a sullying oil.

Pushing off the wall at my back, I tip the brim of my ballcap with my index finger. “Have a good night, Isla. I’ll see you around, yeah?”

She pulls her bag onto her shoulder and grips the strap in a fist. “I’m sure you will.”

Her hesitant retreat washes away a little of that oil.

I watch her walk to her car, not bothering to leave until she’s tucked safely inside and driving out of the parking lot.

Only then do I make my way through the dark to my sedan at the edge of the lot, climb inside, and drive back to the lonely silence waiting for me at home.

2

Isla

“This would look so cute on you!”

Juniper holds up a pastel pink top, cropped with long sleeves, and a slash cut out above the boobs. I smile and take the hanger from her outstretched hand.

“It would look great on the girls.” With the top flush to my chest, I give them a little bounce.

“I have boob envy,” she pouts, returning her attention to the rack separating us. The clink of hangers accompanies her eager search.

“Babe, I’m sure Lee is more than happy with what you have to offer.” I grin through the guilt souring my stomach and return my attention to the clothes.

What am I doing here?

When Juniper called me to go shopping this morning, I was all in, as per usual for our friendship. I’m an impulsive gal. I never learned how to make plans, preferring to go with the flow. After three years without my favorite person on the planet, it’d take a historical blizzard to keep me away from her. And I love shopping. I love finding new clothes to dress up my body. In fact,the only thing I lovemorethan dressing my body is undressing it.

But I haven’t told my best friend my biggest secret yet. She doesn’t know I’m pregnant. Not only am I pregnant, but I’m about to be a single mother, so the last thing I need to do right now is spend money on clothes that aren’t going to fit properly in three months.

But I couldn’t say no to her. Not when it’s been so long since we’ve had a proper hang out. That doesn’t stop this excursion from feeling wrong.

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