Chapter Thirty-One
Court
In general I’m not a huge fan of shopping, and it’s doubly bad when I know nothing about what I’m buying. I never knew there were stores dedicated to baby things. Or that there’s more than just onesies to baby fashion. Or that they need so much…crap. I pick up some junk wrapped in plastic. A waterproof blanket, really? Then what are diapers for?
I put the blanket back.
The thing is I’m having a hard time focusing because…
Pagh ghotvam’e’ muSHa’ghach. Klingon for “this cannot be love.”
The words from yesterday fleet in and out of my mind like…waves. Or maybe immortal vampire mosquitoes. Whatever. Skittles didn’t mean for me to hear it, so it isn’t like I can just ask her to clarify or what made her say it.
So fucking irritating.
Not that Skittles isn’t smart for knowing that what we have isn’t love. I can’t stand it when people throw it in your face like you owe them one because “they love you.” Tiffany thinks she loves me, although she’s probably gotten over that…sort of. I mean, this is why I like hanging out with Skittles.
So why did it feel like a slap when she said it wasn’t love?
I consider for a moment. Not a slap. It was more like…a shock. Yeah. And any guy would be shocked. So I shouldn’t waste more time thinking about it. It’s stupid. It was already stupid of me to pull back from the kiss after she said it, scarf down the pie like my life depended on it and leave her place, with the excuse that she should prep for the interview in peace. I should’ve just had sex with her instead. Sex solves everything. Well, almost every—
“What are you thinking about?” Yuna asks.
The sudden question makes me jerk my head around. “What?”
“You’ve been scowling at that onesie like it’s the cause of global poverty.”
She’s staring at me, sipping her mimosa out of a reusable bottle, so people won’t know she’s started early. Well, it’s probably midnight in Korea.
I put down the onesie. “It just looks so small.”
She picks it up. “Babies are small. And this is a fabulous onesie. See how soft it feels?” She runs her hand over it. “You should get it. It isn’t that expensive.”
It isn’t, until you think about how much it costs per square inch. The whole thing is like a hundred bucks. I can’t imagine what a baby will do with a hundred-do
llar outfit, but what the hell do I know about stuff like that? “Okay.” I turn to a salesclerk near us. “I’ll take it.”
While the lady rings it up, Yuna gives me a speculative look. “I thought you wanted to do this.”
“I do.”
“Then why are you so distracted?”
There’s no way I can tell her the truth and not go through a Korean Inquisition. And I seriously don’t need Yuna starting in on all that destiny stuff. “I’m just wondering how Skittles is going to do on her job interview. She has one a couple of days from now.”
“Does she? And why are you worried about it? Aren’t you going to be her sugar daddy until she finds a job?”
“Of course not. She’s too independent for that.” Skittles never even hinted.
“Then?”
It’s impossible to hide things from someone as nosy and direct as Yuna. Then again, maybe she has some insight. She’s a woman, isn’t she? “I was just wondering about something a friend said.”
Yuna leans closer. “What?”
“He said a girl told him what she feels for him can’t be love because…” Shrugging, I clear my throat, heat flushing my neck at the terrible lie. Can’t I do better? “He seemed a bit…confused, if you know what I mean.”
Yuna raises both eyebrows. “Nate?”