One Week with the Marine (Love on Location)

Myla hummed her disapproval, giving Avery the distinct impression that she was mere minutes from landing herself in “time out.” “So, you wouldn’t care at all if he called the whole thing quits? It wouldn’t change your friendship at all?”

A knot twisted in her stomach, but she shook her head, ignoring the weird sensation. Truthfully, the idea of either of them actually bailing had never occurred to her. Their agreement had been going on for so long, it seemed a natural part of their lives. What else was there to understand?

All she knew was that when they were together, it was pretty damn explosive. Anything other than that wasn’t worth her time or concern.

Rather than dignifying the question with a response, she launched into her own tried-and-true speech. “We are friends who happen to sleep with each other. We’re pretty good at being friends, and he’s pretty great at the other stuff, so I’m settled.”

Even though she knew she didn’t have to defend herself, her mouth ran on, trying to make Myla understand something she was determined not to hear. “The only person who has a problem with this is you.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all.”

“Believe me, the only way I’m getting hurt is if I politely ask for it.” Let Myla have the serious, sock-darning, meet-your-parents relationship with a capitol R. Avery would do what she wanted—with Holden.

“Being friends with benefits doesn’t work. Since he’s the only guy who’s been able to hold your attention for longer than a day, maybe you should really think about trying something new. You know, I started seeing a therapist—”

Avery made a choking sound, and Myla patted her on the back, hard.

“Say what you want, but I did, and I think it’s great. You know, I went because of this whole thing with Oliver and the media attention—”

“Right.” Avery grabbed a soda bottle from an endcap cooler and started guzzling it.

“It’s been hard on me being in the magazines and everything, but this doctor has really helped me focus on what’s important.”

“Which is?” Avery raised her eyebrows.

“Mindfulness. You know, really being aware of your feelings and why you’re feeling them.” Myla shrugged. “It’s wonderful.”

“And how do you go about being mindful?”

“I color sometimes,” Myla chirped.

“You color?” Avery choked.

“Don’t laugh. They say it stimulates the same parts of the brain as meditation.”

Avery held up her hands in mock innocence. “Okay, okay, not judging. I believe you.”

“And the coloring is just for meditation. The really helpful thing I do is keep a journal. You let your mind go blank and just write down whatever comes. Easy as that.”

“I’m happy you found something that works, then,” Avery said.

“But it could work for you, too. Come on, we could make it fun. Like, if we’re both doing it, it’s almost like a club.”

“Or a cult,” Avery added.

Myla rolled her eyes. “Would it really hurt you to give it a try? If you just do this with me while Holden is here, then I promise I will never ever bother you about what your relationship status is with him again.”

“Do you mean that?” Avery asked, and when Myla gave her a serious nod, she reached for a sparkly pink mini journal and matching pen, then threw them on top of her purchases. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Tedious conversation whittled away the rest of their trip, mostly around Myla’s concerns about Oliver’s late nights on the set of his soap opera, ER Dynasty. The more her friend talked, the more her uneasiness grew. This was always how it started with Myla. She met someone, and then the next week, she was wedding planning.

Next, she’d be on websites looking at mash-ups of what her future children would look like or scribbling her future name over and over like a schoolgirl. It would have been positively charming to watch if Avery hadn’t seen the final score so many times before.

Sooner or later, they all left, and it was just the two of them again. Like it had been all through her childhood with her mother: nursing a perpetually broken heart.

Forgive Avery if she wanted to skip that part of the human experience.

She drop