I’d rather lick mud off a pig’s behind.
Over the last couple weeks, Addison’s place has become where I get my dose of normalcy. I was only supposed to spend the night here once in a while, but it turned out to be more like five nights out of seven. Probably would be the full seven, if the campaign didn’t keep me working through the night on occasion. I let reporters follow me home, wait a couple hours, then quietly sneak out the side entrance to meet my Uber driver, Paul. In exchange for pretending I’m just another passenger, Paul now has a fancy permit that allows him to park for free anywhere he pleases within city limits. I’m not proud of myself for being unethical, but I can’t find it in me to be sorry, either.
Addison doesn’t ask me about poll numbers. Doesn’t tiptoe around me or ask me what’s next. What’s next for the future mayor of Charleston? Has heartbreak affected his candidacy? Has he sworn off love forever? It’s so easy between us, I wonder where I’d be if she hadn’t shown up outside the church. There are times when I look over at this girl who keeps me company—sometimes until the early hours of the morning—and I can’t help noticing she’s incredibly gorgeous. Tonight is the first time I’ve seen her in these emerald-green pajamas with the pocket and I want to compliment her on them, but she’d probably tell me to shut up.
And that’s why I ignore how she looks. How she…smells and smiles and thinks. I don’t want to disrupt this flow. I like having this friend who wants nothing from me other than cooking on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays. I like her telling me to shut up and griping at me for showing up unannounced. No one else treats me the way she does. And…hell, I’m not so sure I haven’t sworn off love.
That’s the truth of it. I haven’t heard from Naomi since she left me the note and blew off our wedding. Shouldn’t I be more upset about that? Shouldn’t I be going over every second of our time together, trying to figure out where things went wrong? Love is supposed to be this powerful, compelling feeling and I’m starting to think I’m useless at it. I can be a friend, though. I can be a friend to Addison without disappointing her or blurring the lines of this perfect thing we have.
Yes, Addison is a head turner with a great sense of humor. Yes, sometimes I sniff her hair while she’s cooking at the stove. Or find myself swallowing over the smooth lines of her neck. Noticing how incredible she is doesn’t preclude me from being her friend, though. This friendship is untouched by the chaos of my life. It’s separate and preserved, it makes me happy—and I’m not going to mess with it.
“You know what would be crazy?”
I glance up from my task to find Addison biting her lip and mimic her without realizing right away, as if wondering what it would feel like. “If you made us another round of grilled cheeses?” I say, shaking myself. “Sometimes crazy is the way to go.”
“Good God. I’m convinced your stomach has a trap door.”
“Is that a yes?” She shakes her head and goes back to working. “What were you really going to say, Goose?”
“Never mind.”
Something shifts in my gut. “It was important and I just made it about food, didn’t I?”
“No.” But I can tell by the way her shoulders climb up around her ears that she’s downplaying. “Not important.”
“Not important, but crazy.” I survey the completed projects around us in various stages of drying. “You’re thinking of expanding.”
She sucks in a breath, the materials falling from her hands. “How did you know?”
My sixth sense dings. I’ve just stepped in something. Could be a land mine or a stroke of luck. “I was going to say, you’re thinking of expanding from ball joke ornaments to incorporate female anatomy jokes, too.” She purses her lips. “Okay. That wasn’t it.”
“I mean, it’s not a bad idea. Boobies would definitely draw the male clientele to the booth, which has definitely been lacking.”
Forget I said anything.
I almost make the confusing comment out loud, but swallow it. “You meant expanding the business, didn’t you?”
Addison hesitates a few seconds before nodding once. “Yeah. Like maybe the occasional store window or…for people who don’t have time to decorate their homes for Christmas. Maybe even other holidays, like Halloween or Independence Day. I was thinking I could put together a website, put out flyers at Jingle Balls. You know, just to gauge interest.”
It’s important. And she’s been thinking about expanding for a while, but might be afraid to make a big deal out of it. She won’t look at me, either. Addison has this way of staring me straight in the eye, like she can’t help being challenging and wants to break me. I haven’t totally figured it out yet. But it’s impossible to ignore the fact that she’s self-conscious about this idea. “Is this something you want to do? Or is it more of a way to honor your grandmother?”