Page 87 of Lemon Crush

I frowned. “Are we talking about the same guys? The only one who’s argued about me driving so far is Wade.”

“They’re lulling you into a false sense of security,” she assured me. “Some of them think women aretoo emotionalto drive.”

“Did someone actually say that? Is this the same person that banned you?” It couldn’t be Gene. He wouldn’t stay married to a woman like Morgan for long if he believed that. And I didn’t want to think it could be Lucy. He was a sweetheart, and he wasn’t as invested in the driving as he was coordinating the race itself. “Was it Rick?”

“Yup.” She popped thepin a puff of displeasure. “He said it the last time I asked if they needed another driver for the race. They decided to add Dave instead, and we all know how that turned out. Talk about emotional.”

I grimaced. “Well, we obviously have to crush that man like a bug. Metaphorically speaking, because he’s actually a little intimidating and probably knows ten ways to kill someone with his pinky finger. But we do have Wade on our side now. And I still own the car they need if they want to have one in time for this very special anniversary. I don’t think we’ll have any problems, as long as we stick together.”

Feeling her eyes on me, I looked away from the road long enough to catch her smiling. “What?”

“I like this. Hanging out with you. Sticking together. It brings back good memories.”

“It does.”

“Which reminds me, I need to apologize for being a shitty friend for the last few years.”

My heart clenched. “No, you don’t.”

“I wasn’t all that welcoming when you moved back.”

“We don’t have to?—”

“I do. I made up my mind that you’d hit the big time and turned into a California avocado-toasty priss. You not showing up that often proved my point, as far as I was concerned. Phoebe told me I was wrong, but I didn’t listen. Because I was jealous.”

“Jealous?” I gaped at her. “In what universe could that possibly be true? Not the avocado thing, because I know you love them too, so I’m not apologizing for that. But jealous?”

“You went on the road with Sam while I stayed home and chased after a toddler.” She started ticking off a list on her fingers. “You lived in Hollywood?—”

“NorthHollywood. And that was only for a few years.”

“You dated actors and hung out with screenwriters who became your new best friends,” she went on as if I hadn’t interrupted. “You put out three bestselling books in three years, and there were movie rumors.”

“They were only rumors, and that actor I dated was a cheater who couldn’t memorize his lines,” I reminded her. “Meanwhile you raised a brilliant child who loves you, started your own business, and still have weekly paying gigs with The Wreckers.”

“I co-own the studio with my brother and our only stable weekly gig is at his icehouse,” she muttered gloomily.

“I’m not listening to any negative talk from a woman whose body is an actual temple that men still stand in line to worship at. Isaw a literal line the other night after your first set, and they weren’t trying to get selfies with your drummer.”

Look at us. A mutual admiration society.

“I have to work for this temple more than I used to since I hit the big four-oh,” she admitted. “And dating is exhausting. You don’t know how often I long for a month off to cuddle with an endless supply of chili cheese fries.”

I was about to suggest we find a restaurant to split an order, since my workout had made me munchy, when she continued, “I didn’t force my way in the door after the memorial because things had been so off between us, and I thought you needed space. I should have known better. Life is always messy and complicated, but none of us should go through it alone.”

“Are you telling me it takes a village? Is that what yoga has done to you, B? Are you a walking motivational poster now?”

“You laugh, but it does take a village, in spite of your silly Retta rules.”

I pressed a hand to my chest and gasped. “What is it you Hudsons have against our rules?”

“They’re hypocritical. You, Sam and Morgan made us family in every way but one—you shared all the good and none of the bad.”

Shaking my head, I said, “I don’t think that’s true.”

“Come on, August. We didn’t know about Sam’s triple bypass until it was over. We never know when Morgan’s having a rough patch. And you shut us out the same way.”

“I do not.” She’d obviously given this a lot of thought, but did I have to point out all the ways her family had been helping me through my rough patch recently?

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