Page 81 of More Than Pen Pals

“Yes! Please bring her. I haven’t seen her in forever—not since her wedding.” Beckett is my aunt Minda’s daughter. It’s a little confusing that my last name is her first name, but it suits her. She’s six years older than me but my only girl cousin, and we’ve always been very fond of each other.

“I’m well aware,” Aunt Star says. “If you ever ventured west of the Mississippi, maybe I’d be able to determine your spot on the nationwide list of PR reps.”

“You’re hilarious.”

“Don’t you forget it. As far as me meeting Ash while I’m there, I’d love to, but we’ll see how things are going with him at the time, okay?”

“Sounds perfect. I can’t wait to see you and Becks!”

Thirty minutes later, Wendy and I are both sitting cross-legged on my bed, drinking wine and eating the Chinese takeout she picked up on her way over.

“I don’t know why I didn’t make you come to my place,” she says. “At least I have a couch. And a table.”

“Hey, I have a table!” I protest.

“A table large enough for a medium-sized cat.”

I want to ask how she can afford an apartment bigger than mine, but I haven’t drunk enough wine or known her long enough yet to be comfortable asking such a thing.

“Now give me all the details of the kiss,” she says, “since you refused to tell me at work.”

“We can’t talk about him at work anymore. I need to focus while I’m there and not waste time talking about boys like I’m fifteen. George isn’t paying me to chat to you about my love life.”

“You’re not wrong,” she acknowledges. “We’ve spent an inordinate amount of work time talking about Ash.”

“I’m also not giving you details of the kiss. All I’ll say is it was the most amazing kiss of my life.”

“Whoa. Who’da thought Ash Hamilton had it in him?”

“You, apparently, since you had a crush on him for six months.”

“Oh yeah. I forgot about that.”

“Speaking of your crushes …” I press my lips together so I won’t smile.

She sits up straight. “Sexy Shannon? He’s coming? To see me?”

I let my grin burst free. “Well, to see me, but I might allow you to catch a glimpse of him while he’s here.” I give her a stern look. “If you promise to never, ever, ever call him ‘Sexy Shannon’ again in my presence.”

“Fine. When’s he coming? When? When? When?” She’s bouncing up and down on the bed. I hold on to my takeout container to keep it from spilling.

“Next weekend.”

“And by ‘next weekend,’ do you mean the one that’s coming up in four days, or the one after that?”

“The one after. Isn’t that common knowledge?”

“You would think so, but it’s not. I learned that lesson the hard way.”

“Do I want to hear that story?”

“You do not.”

I’m certain I do, but I don’t push it.

“You going to tell Shannon about Ash?” she asks.

“I already did. That’s why he’s coming. He demanded to meet Ash.”

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