Page 38 of Small Town Firsts

Looking Simon dead in the eye, I tell him what I never got the chance to tell Myla Rose. "I amnotlooking for an easy fuck. And if I were, it wouldn't be Myla Rose. You're right—that girl deserves the damn world, and I intend to be the one to give it to her."

My words must shock them as much as they do me because Simon all but drops me from where he had me pinned, and Drake is doubled over laughing so hard that he sounds like he's howling.

"What makes you think you're good enough?" Simon says, pushing me back into the wall.

"Honestly? I'm not. But I can't explain it . . . they say when you know, you know. I swear to y'all, I wasn't trying to hurt her. My brother's an asshole and thought he was being funny."

“Well, as entertaining as that was, let’s all settle down, yeah?” Drake says once he's composed himself.

Shit’s twisted when he’s the voice of reason. Simon, however, doesn’t budge.

“Gotta make sure he knows,” Simon clips out. I can tell he isn't sure whether he should believe me or not.

“Listen, I know she’s like a sister to you. I get that shit, and I respect it. But I also respect her. Hence, the flowers. I know those texts hurt her, and I want to apologize. I'm just not sure how.” I let my words settle. His grip on my collar slowly loosens before his hand falls away completely, releasing me.

“I, for one, think y’all are perfect for each other,” Drake says.

“How you figure?” Simon spits back.

“Cash has always wanted a family. He’s good with kids. I know he’ll treat her right. Steady income . . .” I tune them out as they discuss me like I’m not standingright fucking here. It’s like I’m in the Twilight Zone.

"I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not." Simon shrugs his shoulders.

“Yeah, no problem, man,” I tell him, because honestly? I get it. If I had a sister, I’d go to bat for her too. Not to mention, that’s more emotion than I’ve ever seen from Simon. Dude can go from Bruce Banner to Hulk in 5.2 seconds. “I need to find a way to say sorry for this shit. Got any ideas?”

They bend their heads together, whispering back and forth, once again like I’m not even there. After what feels like an eternity, Drake pops his head up and says, “Sure do. You’re gonna build that baby of hers a crib.”

“Y’all really think that’ll work?” I question, my skepticism heavy.

“Know it will,” Drake replies. Simon nods his agreement.

CHAPTER 22

MYLA ROSE

“Azalea,”I whine as I hobble behind her, my arms so loaded down with shopping bags that I’m not sure I can walk the five feet to the car.

“Oh, hush up and quit your fussin’. We’re heading home now.”

Azalea stops abruptly to check her phone, causing me to almost walk into her.Again. It feels like she’s been on that damn phone the last hour or so non-stop. I’m about to ask her who’s blowing up her phone when she bursts my peace and relaxation bubble.

“Oh, wait. We have one more place?—”

“Are you kidding me? One more place?” I say, dropping the bags I’m lugging to the ground beside my car.

“No, ma’am, not even a little.” She opens the car door and scoops up my shopping bags, tossing them into the backseat with hers. “Now, hand over your keys. I’ll drive.”

I do as she says, cranking the AC to high. “Wanna tell me where we're going?”

“Sure, we’re going to this sweet little furniture boutique.”

“What? Why?”

“To look at cribs, Myla,” she says like I’m as dense as a brick.

“Right, because why wouldn’t we?” The sarcasm seeping from my pores goes unnoticed by Azalea as she haphazardly steers us out of the parking lot.

She drives for about thirty minutes, weaving in and out of traffic at breakneck speeds before we reach out destination. The sign readsSTORK: An Upscale Baby Boutique. It’s cute as can be but way out of my price range, I’m guessing.

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