Page 100 of Desert Rain
“I’m hanging up.”
“No, you’re not.”
I didn’t.
She grinned and dropped back onto her bed, already scrolling on another device. “Okay. Flight first. Dress second. Emotional interrogation third.”
“You are not sleeping in Bandit’s room.”
“Obviously. I value my organs.”
“He’s kind of taken over the guest room.”
I laughed despite myself and sank deeper into the couch. “The couch is fine. You can sleep here.”
“Perfect. Hank will stay with my neighbor. I’ll bring dresses, shoes if I can swing it, and moral support.”
“Moral support from you usually comes with poor choices.”
“Exactly. You’re welcome.”
I looked at her on the screen, at the friend who had dragged me to that dive bar, who had watched me see Everett with his fiancée, who had known when to offer escape and when to hand me a beer instead. The idea of her here, in my strange new life, made something in my chest loosen.
“Okay,” I said.
Her face softened. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Come.”
She smiled. “Good. Because I already found a flight.”
“Of course you did.”
“And for the record?”
“What?”
“You’re going to that wedding.”
I sighed. “Regan said the same thing.”
“Then she’s smart.”
“She’s invasive.”
“Those can overlap.”
From the spare room, Bandit’s bell jingled violently, followed by a thump.
Lena tilted her head. “Was that him?”
“Probably attacking the concept of indoor life.”
“I can’t wait to meet him.”
“He will hate you.”
“I’m great with difficult men.”
