So she let them get their concerns out first.
“Are you done?” Wren asked when Harper finally shut up. She’d gone on for at least ten minutes, but it had felt longer.
Harper nodded, her gaze narrowing. “If you’re not convinced this is a total mistake yet, I can keep talking. Whatever it takes to keep you here.”
Delilah said nothing, just rolled her eyes.
“Why do you want to keep me here?” Wren needed to hear their reasons. Not just for the ego stroke—though that was nice, she couldn’t deny it—but because she needed to hear that she was needed. The last few years she’d felt like she’d had no purpose, no meaning. She just worked her little jobs and went about her daily routine, to the point that it had become completely mundane.
No one deserved mundane at the age of twenty-six. That was just so . . . pitiful.
The only bright spot over the last few months had been her love-hate flirtation with Tate. And now with that turning into something more, something real, she was excited. Yes, maybe she was putting everything into a man and the possibility of a relationship, but she had a feeling it would be the right relationship.
“Because we love you,” Delilah told her, her gaze downright pleading. “You’re our friend, Wren. You’re like family. If you choose to leave, then fine, but do so for the right reasons. Not because you think it’s the easy way out. Running away from your problems isn’t going to solve them.”
Ouch. Delilah nailed that one right on the head.
“And running away with Levi won’t solve anything,” Harper added with a shiver. “He’ll only give you more problems.”
“You’re right,” Wren said firmly. “I totally agree with the both of you.”
Harper blinked. “You do?”
“Yep.” Wren nodded. “I’m sort of pissed that Levi would say that to you, Harper. I never honestly considered his offer.”
“You didn’t?” Harper squeaked.
Wren shook her head. “Nope.” She was mad Levi had told her friends she had though.
“Oh, thank God.” Delilah seemed to wilt into the couch, her relief apparent.
“So you’re not going to San Francisco to live with Levi?” Harper asked, earning a poke in the ribs from Delilah. She turned on her. “Hey, I was just double-checking.”
“No.” Wren shook her head, smiling. “I’m so not running away with Levi.”
“Good.” Harper practically preened. “I knew we could convince her, Dee. Didn’t I tell you so?”
“Oh, I’d already made up my mind,” Wren added, her smile growing. “Besides, I have Tate now.”
Her friends gaped at her, Harper finding her words first. “Um, what do you mean, you have Tate now?”
Wren launched into what happened two nights ago between her and Tate—leaving out most of the supremely naughty parts—but they got the gist. By the time she was wrapping up her story, she was a babbling, blushing mess, and both Delilah and Harper were watching her with lovesick expressions on th
eir faces.
“That is the sweetest thing ever,” Delilah said, clasping her hands together. She looked ready to swoon. “He actually told you that he wasn’t going to give up on you?”
Wren nodded, still amazed he would say such a thing. “I know we haven’t known each other that long, but . . . ”
“When you know, you know,” Harper said. “And it sounds like Tate . . . knows.”
“Don’t jump to conclusions. It’s way too early in our relationship.” Wren frowned. “I don’t even know if I can call it a relationship.”
“You’re living in his house,” Delilah pointed out. “And you’re having sex. Sounds like a relationship to me.”
Oh God. Delilah was right. They were in a relationship.
“It’s nothing serious,” Wren said, wincing the moment the words left her.