“You mean with the busting into hotel rooms and the cops being called? We’re super low drama,” Kincaid teased.
Rebecca tilted her head in a come-on-now look. “I just mean that I don’t have to be on all the time, watching what I say, how I say it, how I come across. I don’t have to be professional with a capital P. It’s nice.”
Liv considered her. Rebecca had been the overachiever as long as Liv had known her. Rebecca had cried in fourth grade when she’d gotten a B on her report card. And it was no secret that her dad was some high-falutin’ attorney and didn’t accept less than the best from his kid. Liv had her own brand of pressure from her family, but she couldn’t imagine how it must’ve been to feel like a failure if you didn’t knock it out of the park every time on every play.
Kincaid leaned into Rebecca and bumped shoulders with her. “Are you saying you miss us, Becs?”
She rolled her eyes. “Some of you.”
Kincaid grinned.
“It’s not just that, though. That year afterward, we had each other’s backs. There was no judgment. No bullshit. It was just…space to be whatever we needed to be right then. People who wouldn’t bail on you even when you were messing up. I miss having that.”
Liv’s chest tightened, memories of those months after pressing down on her. The night after her mother’s funeral when they’d dragged Liv out to see a midnight movie marathon at the dollar theater and didn’t judge her when she snot-cried at the funny parts. Or the morning she and Taryn had picked up a banged-up Kincaid from a police station in Austin after she’d gotten in a fight at some frat party where she wasn’t supposed to be. The day they’d gotten Rebecca drunk on cherry wine when her father had told her she had to go to his alma mater instead of the college she wanted most. They’d let each other see the ugly stuff—the thing best friends did for one another even though they’d never declared themselves as such.
Liv swallowed past the growing knot in her throat, the memories driving home the realization that she didn’t have people like that in her life anymore. She had friends, people she liked and had fun with, but none she’d trust with her secrets. None who would’ve offered to braid her hair after a panic attack like Kincaid had last night. Even her dad had conditions on their relationship. She’d found that out in college.
“I think you’re right,” Liv said, tapping Rebecca’s foot beneath the table to get her to look up. Liv gave her what she hoped was an encouraging smile. “Step one needs to be not letting another decade pass with us being strangers. I miss this, too.”
Kincaid sat up straighter, eyes bright. “Is it weird that I just had the deepest urge to put our hands together at the center of the table and do some ‘All for one’ cheer?”
“Yes,” they all said in unison and then laughed.
“No cheering.” Rebecca gave Kincaid a look and used her lawyer tone. “I have my limits.”
Kincaid was unfazed. “Fine. But y’all realize this is a binding agreement now? I will hunt you down if you three disappear on me again.”
“I believe you,” Taryn said and leaned over to Liv and mock-whispered, “That bitch is crazy.”
Liv nodded. “And that from a licensed professional.”
Kincaid beamed. “Stop going on and on about how much y’all love me.” She pulled out her phone. “Now, let’s start by getting something set up for pictures. I have an epic pancake blog I need to plan now. You ladies can eat the spoils of war if you want to join me and Liv.”
Liv’s phone vibrated on the table, and she glanced down at the screen where the word Office flashed. She silenced it and frowned. She’d sent an email to her boss telling him she wouldn’t be in until late afternoon. “We’ll set something up soon. I have to get into the office and see what’s on my d
ocket, but hopefully I can free up this weekend or the next.”
“No problem. I can be pretty flexible unless I have a showing or open house scheduled. Would you want me to come to your place and cook? I live on the other side of the lake, so it’d be a drive for you. I don’t mind going into Austin if that makes it easier.”
“My place won’t work. I have a shoebox kitchen in my apartment, and I need a change of scenery to get out of my creative rut.” Liv shifted her gaze to her food. “I plan to…stay in Wilder on the weekends. So, I can come to you.”
“Wait. You’re staying in Wilder?” Taryn asked, dark brows lifting.
Liv shoved a bite of food in her mouth and shrugged.
“Like the same Wilder Finn’s heading to?” Kincaid’s voice had a little bit too much lilt in it. “Neighbors?”
“Something like that,” Liv mumbled. Thankfully, her phone buzzed again before Kincaid could push, and this time Liv grabbed for it like the lifeline it was. “Sorry, I have to take this.”
She excused herself from the table and put the phone to her ear. But not before she heard Kincaid say to the others, “We’ve got to up our game. Liv’s about to tackle a letter item and her football player. She’s officially become my patron saint.”
Liv didn’t have time to respond. Her boss’s voice making demands in her ear drowned out everything else.
“Pres—” She’d tried to say she was not in Austin and that she’d be there later today, but Preston wasn’t hearing any of it.
Office. Now. That was the only option he gave her.
She sighed and agreed to be there as soon as she could.