Page 34 of Small Town Firsts

“Nothing! Not a single thing!”

“Okay . . .” I know she's lying, but decide not to call her on it.

“Jesus. Can’t a girl just be out of breath? Maybe I was exercising—did that ever cross your mind?” She's being downright defensive now.

“Nope.” I snort. “It sure didn’t.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” She relents, sending us both into a fit of laughter. “Oh! So, how was last night with Cash?” she blurts, like she’s just remembered that I had a . . . whatever last night was.

“Long story. Want to meet me at the nail salon, and I’ll get you all caught up?”

“Well, duh.” I can just picture her sarcastic smile. “When have I ever said no to a mani/pedi?”

I’m just about to agree with her when I hear a scuffle in the background. A scuffle—and a man’s voice?

“Who are you with?” I ask, keeping my voice calm to keep her calm. She doesn’t do so well with corners.

“What?” she shrieks, her voice several octaves higher than normal. “I’m not with anyone."

“You sure? I swear I heard a guy's voi?—”

“Nope! No guy. See you in ten!” And just like that, she hangs up on me.

Well. Okay, then.

I’m soaking my feet,enjoying the magic of the massaging pedicure chair when Azalea flies through the door, looking rode hard and put up wet. She blindly grabs a polish and throws herself down into the chair next to mine.

Neither one of us speaks. She’s looking at everything but me—literally everything. I ignore her, knowing eventually, she’ll break.

After damn near ten minutes of awkward silence, I give up on waiting her out. “Azalea Josephine, what gives?”

“Whatever do you mean?” she inquires with all the charm of a debutante. She even bats her lashes at me.

“Puh-lease, sister-girl. Take that shit somewhere else.”

“Okay, fine.” She inhales deeply, and with all her words running right together, she blurts, “ImighthavesleptwithDrake!”

“Huh?” I must have misheard her. Because there is no way she did what I think she said.

Another deep breath. “I slept with Drake. And it was amazing. And I loved it, every second. It was a one-time thing, and it’llneverhappen again. So, how was your night?” Her smile is tremulous, at best, and her tone brokers no room for negotiation.

“Last night was a shit-show,” I deadpan. She raises a brow at me, silently sayingplease continue, Myla.

So I do. “It started out really, really good. He was such a gentleman, opening doors for me and walking with his hand at my back. He took me to Cotton, and the food wasdelicious.Like, oh-my-God good. We even ordered the same thing, and we shared a dessert. We talked about the baby, and Az, he seemed so interested and not at all put off by it. And he told me abouthis ex, and it just seemed like this could maybe lead to more one day.” I sigh, thinking back on how amazing dinner was.

“I’m missing the bad part . . .” Her words cause my smile to drop, an ugly scowl taking its place.

“The bad part is what came after dinner."

I lean back harder into my pedicure chair and use the remote to ramp up the massage before releasing a long, drawn-out sigh.

“Okay, so we left Cotton and the drive back was fine. And by fine, I mean I was a hot damn mess on the inside. He not only helped me into the truck—he also buckled me in. I know, it sounds absurd, but when his shoulder brushed across me—hell, every time he touched me—my heart rate skyrocketed. When we got back to my house, he even insisted on walking me to the door! Taylor sure never did that.”

“Yeah, well, Taylor is a douche-canoe.” We both smile at that.

“That’s when it got a bit weird. He leaned in, and I thought he was gonna kiss me. Again.”

"You have this real knack for talking without ever saying anything, Myles."

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