“Do I have to go to the tea?” she asked. She looked wary.
I sighed and looked at her. “Evie asked my mother to include you,” I said. “But I’d be happy to say no if that’s what you’d prefer.”
She put her chin up. “I can handle them,” she said bravely. “I think.”
“I don’t care if you go,” I said, but I knew that my mother and Evie would be all over me about it if she didn’t. I think they wanted to inspect her more closely. Fortunately, Audrey had proven herself up to the challenge.
“It’s only for a few hours. They’ll just be talking about dresses. Or whatever it is Evie and her douchebag cousins talk about right before one of them gets married.”
“I think I can handle that. If not, I’ll just text you and make you come rescue me.” She laughed, and I poured her some more wine.
“Is there anything you need to do tomorrow?” I asked.
“I’d love to go see my brother in the morning,” she said, “if that doesn’t interfere with anything.”
“Of course. I’ll have Kai drive you. We’re going to Copley Plaza for the fitting, so I can walk.”
“Thank you. That’s really nice, James,” she said, suddenly sounding formal. She hopped down off her barstool. “I should probably get going to bed. Thank you for today, though. It was great. Those were amazing seats.”
She smiled at me and started heading toward her room, her sandals clicking awkwardly on the hardwood floors. Aside from that noise, the silence boomed around us.
“Audrey.”
She turned around and looked at me, biting her lip.
“Can you sleep with me tonight? No sex,” I said, holding up my hands. “I promised you—and even if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t ask you like that. I just want you to stay with me.”
“Like a sleepover?” she asked, a little skeptically, but she looked pleased.
“Yes, like a sleepover. Just don’t try to put a mud mask on me or put warm water on my hand. That would piss me off,” I said.
“Let me change. Your room or mine?”
“Mine,” I said. “I have the best bed.”
“Of course you do,” she said.
* * *
She came in a few minutes later in those pink sweatpants again, her face scrubbed clean of makeup. She looked so beautiful and innocent it made my heart actually hurt, and I wasn’t technically sure that I even had a heart.
“Hey,” s
he said and sat on the edge of my bed. “You’re still in your clothes.”
“I wasn’t sure what you were going to wear,” I admitted. “I wanted to show you some solidarity and dress similarly.” I got up and pulled out an old Wharton T-shirt and a pair of flannel pajama bottoms. “Is this okay?” I asked.
“It’s fine, James. I approve of the flannel.” She scooted up on the bed and grabbed the remote off the side table. She turned the flatscreen on and switched the channel to NESN, the New England Sports Network.
I was pretty sure that I still had a heart because it felt right then like I loved her, at least a little.
* * *
Later, after an hour of sports news, we turned out the lights.
“No sex?” she asked.
“That’s right,” I said. I paused. “Why are you asking?”