Page 141 of Safe With You

“Two bags,” she said.

I lifted them. “Happy?”

“Very.”

“Good. Move.”

She stepped aside, and I carried the ice through the house toward the kitchen.

I’d been coming to Tasha’s long enough that nobody needed to tell me where anything went. Her refrigerator was still covered in school pictures and magnets from places she’d never been, and the same ceramic fruit bowl she’d had since moving in sat in the middle of the counter, currently holding everything except fruit.

I dropped both bags into the cooler beside the back door, washed the water from my hands, then opened the refrigerator.

Tasha came in behind me.

I twisted the cap off the water and leaned against the counter while she went back to slicing tomatoes.

This was Tasha.

She’d call me repeatedly until I answered, insult me within five minutes of arriving, feed me before I left, then text later to make sure Mila and I had made it home.

There had never been much need for softness between us because it was already understood.

My phone vibrated in my pocket.

I pulled it out.

I asked Naomi. She agrees with me.

I laughed under my breath.

Naomi isn’t a credible source.

You don’t even know her like that.

I know enough.

“Who is Luna?”

My thumb stopped over the screen.

I looked up.

Tasha was still slicing tomatoes.

“What?”

She nodded toward my phone. “Her name just popped up big as hell while you standing in my kitchen smiling at your phone.”

“A friend.”

“A friend,” she repeated.

“Yes.”

She picked the knife back up. “Okay.”

I narrowed my eyes.