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He grunts a negative answer and holds on to me tighter. “You’re perfect,” he mumbles into my legs.

“You mean perfectly squishy like a pillow?” I ask, not really enjoying that answer.

“No,” he answers matter-of-factly. “Not like a pillow.” But that’s all he says.

I can’t help the smile tugging at my mouth as I watch Cooper fall asleep snuggling my legs. It strikes me that this is exactly how Levi lies down when he’s sick, because I’m the most important thing to him, and when someone feels horrible, they want to keep the most important thing in their life nearby for comfort.

So why is Cooper holding on to me like this?

My feet are killing me, and I swap all of my weight to my left foot, hoping to give my right a break as I place the 200th foil in my client’s hair. She and her bestie popped in here an hour ago, right at closing time, and begged Jessie and me to squeeze them in for last-minute highlight appointments. I wanted to laugh in their faces, but then she tucked some hair behind her ear, and her SUV-sized diamond ring raised its eyebrows suggestively at me. Jessie also saw the dollar signs hovering over these ladies’ heads, and we both became the world’s most accommodating stylists. Would you like a glass of wine? A foot rub? Need me to do your grocery shopping? Socks mended? SURE! Don’t forget to tip, and no, I don’t have change for a hundred.

But believe me, we are more than working for this money. They wanted highlights, lowlights, dark roots, and to talk nonstop until my ears bleed and my brain oozes out of my nose. You’d think they’d want to talk to each other, but no.

“How far along are you?” the girl named Sasha asks Jessie—which is honestly a bold move because Jessie’s baby bump is still small enough to potentially be an undigested burger.

“Five months.”

“Cute. Who’s your baby daddy?”

Jessie falters with her foil, though I doubt anyone noticed it but me. It’s an invasive question (one I’ve never had the guts to ask) and I’m sure not one Jessie appreciates. “Like his name? You wouldn’t know him.”

“You never know,” the girl says with a cheeky grin that no one appreciates. “I get around.” Just for that, Sasha is going to leave with slightly brassier highlights than she’d like. “I’m kidding, girl! So, did he bail? I noticed you don’t have a ring on.”

Jessie gives a tight smile in the mirror. “Yep. Bailed.”

My heart tugs. I know exactly what that feels like. I know how it feels to have to answer those prodding questions, and I know what it feels like to not be wanted. If it wasn’t weird, I’d go wrap my arms around Jessie, snuggle her right here in the middle of the salon, and tell her she will get through it.

“Ugh, too bad. Men suck,” says Sasha’s friend Carrie. “They NEVER do what they say they are going to.”

This triggers something in Sasha, and her jaw drops as she sharply turns her head to Carrie. “Did he seriously still not add you on Snapchat?!”

Carrie abruptly whips her head toward Sasha, ripping a foil from my hand that I had just perfectly placed. Yeah, don’t mind me, I’m not doing anything important back here. “No! And he, like, promised he would before he left town today.” She plops back heavily against the chair again and pouts at her reflection. “Why is it so difficult for men to follow through and contact us like they say they will?”

“You’re telling me!” I say, shocking myself that I said that out loud.

Jessie looks even more shocked. She paints a little lightener onto a strand of Sasha’s hair then slowly moves her gaze up to me with sassy lifted eyebrows. “Is this about Cooper? Do tell.”

Carrie gasps with joy and completely turns around in her seat, knees tucked up to her chest and clapping with excitement. “TELL US!”

>

It makes me laugh how eager these women are to jump into my drama, but I also kind of love them for it. Besides, who else am I going to talk to about this? My only other friend is Drew, and I definitely can’t discuss it with him.

“Okay, well, yeah. So, there’s this guy…my brother’s best friend—” The girls oooooh collectively, and Jessie just gives a guttural laugh. “Anyway. He’s the best-looking man I’ve ever seen and definitely has women fawning over him at every turn. I thought there was no way he would be interested in me, but then…”

“YEAH?!” They are way too excited to hear this story.

“Well, he sort of started flirting with me. And texting me. And…sneaking me off on secret late-night pool adventures.”

“Shut up. I’m so jealous of you right now. Keep going.”

“And then…I tried to kiss him. And he rejected me.”

“Ouch,” says the choir of women.

“Yeah. But here’s the really confusing part: he was still super touchy-feely with me the rest of that night, even sent me a sweet goodnight text. AND THEN, about two weeks ago, he came down with food poisoning and called me to come over and take care of him.”

“Did you?”


Tags: Sarah Adams It Happened in Nashville Romance