Color Me Pretty: A Father's Best Friend Romance

She must have forgotten that Sunday brunches were a thing with Sophie. Tiffany couldn’t stand my aunt, a lot of people couldn’t. But unlike those people, Tiff didn’t hide it.

“I don’t want to go out and have fun.” What I wanted was to sit in my living room with my favorite popcorn and binge watch new episodes of Mysteries at the Museum like the nerd I was. Maybe even text Theo. Okay, I was definitely doing that, even if part of me said to hold off. I liked seeing his texts first, knowing he was thinking of me. Like the one he sent this morning of him and Ramsay. He was making a face at the camera while the dog licked him, and all the caption said was good morning from your two favorite men.

My heart had melted a little right there on my kitchen floor while I grabbed a protein bar from my cupboard before leaving.

“Which is your problem.” Her laugh drew people’s attention, making me elbow her as we started toward the sidewalk. “I’m trying to be your friend, Della. Even Ren said you needed to get out and enjoy yourself more.”

I eyed her. “Since when do you and Ren talk when I’m not around?”

She shrugged. “He annoyed me at first, but he’s grown on me like a fungus. Even though he called me a bitch.”

Cringing, I shot her an apologetic look. He did call her that when they first met. And what did she do? Shrugged, said she’d been called worse, pulled out an apple from her backpack, and hung out with us at the Hut while we had coffee between classes.

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

Tiffany snorted. “He’s honest. Not a lot of guys are. Anyway, it isn’t like we paint each other’s nails and trade secrets about you. We just happened to exchange numbers and he told me that we were going out because you needed it.”

That was a classy way of saying Ren needed to get out and find a new toy to play with, but I didn’t tell Tiffany that. If they were friends now, she’d learn it soon enough. Unless… “Are you into Lawrence?”

She stopped walking, giving me a twisted face, but the apples of her cheeks were red. “No! I told you we’re friends. Just friends.”

I studied her for a moment before finally nodding. What else could I do? It wasn’t really my business, even if they were both my friends. Whatever they chose to do was on them. “I was curious. I get it, trust me.”

“What does that mean?”

Licking my bottom lip, I shot her a timid look with my own face flushed. “Ren and I…”

Her eyes widened. “What?” It came almost like a shriek that had me blushing harder in return.

Swiping a hand through my hair, I nodded and looked around us as we walked back to my building. “Yeah. We were teenagers. Experimenting, you know? He was my first.”

“Were you his?”

“He says I was, but I have my doubts.” It wasn’t something I dwelled on anymore, but at the time I was a little hurt by it. Ren told me he wanted to share our firsts together for a long time, which made me think he’d been serious. But I saw how he acted around other girls at school, heard the talk and gossip from them. After we had sex, it felt like I was just another notch on his bedpost. I told myself it wasn’t true. But now?

“You okay?” Tiffany’s voice was quiet, considerate of my once scorned teenage feelings.

I gave her my best smile. “Yeah. It was a long time ago. I don’t regret what happened between us. We’re obviously still close and I trust him to be a great friend. Anything else? No. No offense to him, but he’s…Ren.”

We both laughed at that. Even though the three of us hadn’t hung out for long, it didn’t take much to get to know Ren and his ways. Did that make me love him any less? No. Like Tiffany, Ren was unapologetically himself. That was probably why they got along so well.

“When am I being forced to socialize?” I asked, holding the door open for her.

“He said he’d group text us.”

Ren’s group texts were over the top because he knew it annoyed me. He’d blow up everyone’s phones if we weren’t quick enough or because he was bored. Making a face, I headed toward the stairwell off to the side. Tiffany stopped me. “Can’t we take the elevator for once? I’m lazy.”

“You’re the thesaurus’s antonym of lazy. Come on. If I’m being forced out, then you have to suck it up and walk five flights with me as punishment.”

The noise she made had me grinning as she followed behind me. “I don’t understand why you’re so terrified of elevators. Do you know the statistics of people actually getting trapped or dying in them?”

I paused. “No. Do you?”

“No, who do you think I am? Hermione? I figured your ridiculous fear would make you able to spit out some random fact about it.”

I speared her with a look before admitting, “My mom was afraid of them too. I think it’s drilled in my head by default.”

She blinked. “Oh.”