Lila gave me the stink eye as I climbed onto the other side of the bed, crossing my legs while facing her. “Really?” She pointed to her face. The four-inch gouge showed signs of mending nicely, but I realized all she saw was the potential scar. Graham brought in the best plastics guy to work on her face. I knew there wouldn’t be much of a scar after it completely healed.
“Yes, I see it. And I see you. And you’re alive! Please don’t focus on the little things that don’t matter.” I glanced around. “Where’s Graham Cracker?”
“D.C.”
“What?” I drew my head back.
Lila lifted her good shoulder. “He’ll be home in a few days. I have a gazillion people waiting on me and checking up on me.” She smirked. “Besides you. So it’s fine.”
“He’s your husband. No one replaces him. He should have been the one to bring you home. Who brought you home?”
“Fiona.”
“Your personal assistant? You mean his parents couldn’t even take it upon themselves to pick you up in Graham’s absence? Are you kidding me?”
“It’s fine, Evie. They’re out of town. Besides, Fiona is my friend. She’s become family of sorts.”
I wrinkled my nose, not out of jealousy. No. It was the memory of Lila telling me how Fiona would wait outside of Graham’s office with clean underwear and a cloth for Lila after Graham fucked her in his office. I knew what it was like to be that kind of friend to Lila, so it made me sad for her. Who wants to need that from a friend?
“I’m glad she was there for you. Had I known, I would have picked you up. I was visiting my mom this morning, but we both would have picked you up and brought you home. I just assumed it was Graham, and I didn’t want to step on his toes.”
“I’m alive.” She winked. “No need to focus on the little things that don’t matter, right?”
I shook my head, trying to fight back my grin. “Touché.”
Lila’s gaze shifted to my bag. “Did you seriously bring stuff to give me a manicure?”
“Yes.” I tipped my chin up. “And a pedicure.”
She chuckled. “You realize I can order that sort of pampering anytime I want it, right?”
I grabbed her hand and inspected her nails and the peeling red polish. “Yes. But I knew you wouldn’t do it today, so I jumped at the chance to go back twenty-five years to when we used to give each other manis and pedis.” Crawling off of the bed, I padded to the bathroom to find a few things. “I bet these are expensive towels, huh?” I ran some hot water.
“Of course,” Lila replied.
“Well, they’re going to get fucked-up today.” I returned with a wicked grin and fine linens to ruin with nail polish.
“Go for it. Graham has been extra nice to me since the accident. I don’t think he’ll sweat over towels.”
I wet a cotton swab with fingernail polish remover and scrubbed at her nails. “Graham should be extra nice to you every single day. That was the deal.”
“What deal?”
I glanced up and winked. “The deal we made when I said I’d be his advocate to get you to fall in love with him. You’re on loan … from me. Wedding vows or not, he knows the deal that was made.”
“So if he breaks the deal, you get me back?”
“Yes.”
“And I’ll come live with you and Ronin?”
“Yes.” I focused on her nails and the stubborn polish.
“Will we have a threesome?”
“Hell to the no fucking way.”
She giggled. “Why not?”
“Because Ronin is a one-woman man.”
“How do you know? Have you asked him?”
“No.”
“Why not?” Lila cocked her head to the side.
“Because he’s not Graham. I don’t have to have threesome conversations with him. We’re married. We have two kids. That’s not our life.”
“But you did it with us in Vancouver.”
I paused and glanced up again, brow furrowed. “Seriously? That was years ago. And we didn’t ‘do it.’ We … messed around. Then I left. And you two ‘did it.’ No one was married. No kids. And it wasn’t my idea.”
“But you went along with it.”
I sighed. “Why are we having this conversation? You were the one who said we should never discuss it again.”
“Have you told Ronin? Does he know just how close your friendship is with Graham and me?”
Wiping her hand with the expensive white towel, I shook my head. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Grr …”
Lila giggled. I hated that stupid conversation, but I sure did love her giggle. It meant so many things—she was alive, feeling better, and happy.
“Did you just growl at me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I think you’re on something. Did you start taking more pain meds?”
“No.”
“Marijuana?”
“Nope. I’m just high on life and feeling nostalgic, and I’m in the mood to walk down memory lane because my BFF is here and doing something really sweet for me.”