Page 80 of Love Thy Neighbor

We’ve used that word before over the years, casually and not putting anything behind it other than platonic feelings. Because of course I love her. She’s been in my life for over ten years now. How could I not love her?

But now? That word has a different meaning…a different feeling.

She clears her throat and shuffles around the bed.

I force myself to move. To not think about it too hard.

I reach into the hall and flip off the light, then make my way back to the warmth of the bed.

Shit. It actuallyisgetting cold in here.

But I’m not turning up the heat and giving Caroline the satisfaction. I know she’d turn it around to how I did it just for her and not becauseIwas cold too. She’d never shut up about it.

I stop at my dresser and grab an extra pair of socks.

“Are you putting more clothes on? Isn’t that a little counterproductive given what’s going to go on here tonight?”

“My, my, Caroline,” I say, lifting the blanket and scooting back under. “Are you just using me for my body? Is that all I am to you, a plaything?”

She side-eyes me, ignoring my teasing and flipping open her sketchpad that’s lying on her lap.

A folded piece of paper falls out of it, slipping down onto the blankets between us.

“What’s this?” I ask, snatching up the paper. “A love note from your other boyfriend?”

“I bet he’d turn the heat up,” she grumbles, trying to grab the paper from my hand.

I’m faster than her, moving it out of reach and unfolding it.

“It’s nothing,” she insists. “Just a silly design I was thinking of working on.”

I let my eyes wander over the sketch, and I can already picture her wearing it. “This looks good.” I see a note at the bottom. “Wait…does that say jubilee? Is that what this is for?”

She again tries to steal the paper and again fails.

She sighs defeatedly, picking up her sketchpad instead and flipping to a blank page. “River asked me to make some pieces for the event.”

I perk up at her confession.

She’s flippant about it, but I know it’s a big deal. Her father really did a number on her when he refused to support her dream of designing, calling it a pipe dream and pushing her toward something more “practical.”

I tried to convince her it washerfuture and not his, but since she wasn’t on good terms with her mom, I don’t think she could bear the thought of disappointing her father.

So, she caved.

I think she’s regretted it since.

“Let me guess,” I say, “you told her no.”

She narrows her eyes at me. “It’s none of your business.”

“As a boyfriend, I’m pretty sure it is.”

“As a boyfriend”—she moves unexpectedly, finally managing to snatch the paper from my hands—“it’s definitely not. If I want to put a few pieces up, I’ll do it, and we can celebrateifthey sell. And as a boyfriend, it’s also your place to respect if I decide not to and pretend River never asked. You’re not allowed to push me on this. Got it?”

I sigh, letting her win this round. “For what it’s worth, I think you should do it.”

“You always say I should do it when River asks.”

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