“Who is it?” I called.
“It’s me, Kit Kat,” Zara said.
I was relieved but disappointed it wasn’t Asher as well. I stuck my spoon into my softening ice cream and opened the door.
Zara, who was wearing sweaty shorts and a tank top, frowned at what was in my hands. “Oh my God. That bad, huh?”
I snorted. “Believe me, it was worse before this.”
I invited her in, and for some odd reason, she turned on the light in the living room then turned it off.
“What are you doing?” I asked, frowning dubiously as I flopped down onto the sofa.
She sat carefully on the edge of the sofa beside me. “Nothing. I thought I wanted more light but decided I didn’t.” She waved her fingers toward me, asking for my dinner.
I sighed and handed her the carton. “Ice cream after a run, huh?”
She rolled her eyes.
“And what are you doing out running this late anyway? You’re begging to be dragged into the alley by creepy-rapist guy.”
She held a large spoonful of my favorite ice cream in front of her mouth. “Or a creepy stalker gazing into the windows.”
“What?” I asked, frowning.
“Nothing.” She plopped the ice cream into her mouth then closed her eyes to relish the flavors. “Now, that’s good.” She gave the carton and spoon back to me.
Zara and I often ate from the same silverware and drank from the same cup. We were not queasy about sharing each other’s germs. I always considered her my sister from another mother.
I snorted. “So, why did you leave the dinner? You left before we did.”
She groaned, closing her eyes. “Long story, but it involves Kirk, the driver. I don’t want to talk about it, not tonight.”
“Wow, did you guys kiss?”
She looked at me with one eye open.
I shoved her playfully on the shoulder. “Oh my God, you did. Was it nice?”
“Personally, I think I should be the one asking the questions.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because you said the lovely Dr. Jake Sparrow has secrets. What are they?”
I sniffed, jerking my head back. “Come on. When have you known me to tell someone’s secrets?”
Zara had a slight smirk on her face as she studied me. It was weird.
“What?” I asked then ran my tongue across my front teeth, wondering if I had chocolate on them or something.
“Nothing.”
“Hey,” I said, pointing my spoon at her. “You’re the one who kissed Kirk. You’re the one who has shit to share, not me.”
“Right,” she said, rising to her feet, then she stretched while yawning. “I’m also the one who needs a shower. You smell lovely. Like man sweat and sex.”
I laughed. She was right. I was drenched in Asher’s scent.