Page 20 of The Little Black Book

“That sucks. Was he bummed?” Sophie asks, and I shrug.

“Not really. We finished eating together, then went out for ice cream.”

“Ice cream, you say?” Ava asks, perking up as her chocolate eyes study me.

“Yes, Ava. Ice cream,” I say with an exaggerated eye roll. “Then we rode the zipline on Fremont.”

“Really,” Sophie says, sharing a look with Ava. “Anything else?”

“We had a drink after,” I say nonchalantly.

“So, let me get this straight,” Ava says, holding up a hand. “You had dinner and dessert, then went to Fremont to ride the zipline, followed by drinks.”

“That’s what I said,” I say, flinching at the frustration I hear in my voice.

I cannot get defensive when Ava is going in for the kill. I’ve known her long enough to know exactly what’s happening, and giving her more ammo is always a bad idea. I love her, but she can be brutal.

“Are you sureyouweren’t on a date with Sam?”

And there it is.

“Of course, not,” I say, sniffing lightly. “We’re just friends. Friends hang out, Ava.”

I close my eyes and groan. That defensive, manic tone is exactly what I’d been trying to avoid. And when I open my eyes, Ava’s bright, almost feral smile makes me groan again. She looks at Sophie.

“Methinks the lady doth protest too much.”

“I most certainly agree,” Sophie says in a terrible British accent.

I lift both hands, giving them each the middle finger salute. They laugh, and when they wind down, Sophie gives me an earnest look.

“Seriously, though. It seems like you and Sam are getting closer.”

“We’re friends,” I reiterate. “Friends are allowed to hang out and have fun together. Just because he’s a guy doesn’t mean it has to be romantic.”

They send me matching deadpan looks, and I sigh. Arguing with these two can be exhausting. And futile. I decide to let them think what they want. I know the truth. There’s nothing between Sam and me but simple friendship.

A memory flashes through my mind, and I hold my breath. Sam’s hands on my knees, warm and strong. His body leaning in, his fresh scent filling my senses as his fingers burrow into my hair to tilt my head back. His nose brushing along my throat and jawline. My heart pounding a staccato rhythm as he inhales deeply, like––

“What was that?”

“What?” I bark, snapping out of the memory at the sound of Ava’s voice.

She looks from me to Sophie with wide eyes, and the redhead nods.

“I saw it, too.”

“Saw what?” I ask after clearing my throat.

“Don’t play dense with us,” Ava says, pointing a finger at me. “You’re holding something back. And by the looks of your flushed skin, it’s something good.”

“I am not flushed,” I say, pressing my palms against my hot cheeks.

“Bullshit,” Ava says. “Spill.”

I sigh, slumping lower in my chair. My gaze flicks between them for a few beats, but neither of them backs down. I’m going to have to come clean.

“Fine,” I say, pushing myself up and straightening my spine. “But this doesn’t leave this table. Not a word toanyone.”

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