"And…?"
He looks at me like I'm dense.
I guess I am. I've never had a close girl comma friend. And a lot of my not-so-close girl comma friends ended up girl-no-comma friends.
But there's always Luna.
I mean, yeah, Luna is a babe.
But gross.
"Is it the same with Luna?" I ask.
Again, he looks at me like I'm dense.
"You flirt with her, but it doesn't mean anything."
"Exactly. 'Cause we both know it doesn't mean anything. And she has a boyfriend."
"Doesn't Val?"
"They broke up."
Oh.
"So you see the problem?"
No.
"Tricky, I swear." He shakes his head, again. "How can you not see it?"
"Break it down for me with tiny words."
"She's my best friend."
"Right."
"I can't fuck that up."
"Then don't."
"What if I already did?" The sound of the door calls his attention.
But it's not on his end. It's me. I motion for him to hold on. "Imogen is here."
"I'm cock-blocking you?"
"Yeah, but I like to make her wait," I say.
"I heard that," she calls from downstairs. She drops her key on the kitchen table and slides out of her shoes.
I know it's kind of crazy to give her a key this early—shit, wild, not crazy—but with our schedules so different, it works.
I like knowing she's here when I'm at work.
I like coming home to the smell of chai.
I like knowing she can use my bed for any untoward purpose she wants—