And the asshole occupying her thoughts.
There’s no way he deserves her.
Not if he can’t see what’s right in front of his face.
I wrap my fingers around her wrist. Lead her outside.
She squints as she looks up at me. “What did you say?”
“This idiot. What’s he do?”
“Uh-uh.” She digs her sunglasses from her purse. Slides them on. “We’re not talking about that.”
“You want me to agree to this plan?”
“Yes. But we’re still not talking about that.” She moves forward, toward the beach. “You’re mine today. And I’m ready to escalate.”
“Tell me one thing about him.”
“He’s tall.”
“Leigh—”
“That’s all you’re getting.”
“Taller than I am?”
“Are you threatened?”
“No.” That’s ridiculous. My gut is churning. But it’s not jealousy. It’s concern for my best friend. Concern that she’s wasting her time on someone who doesn’t deserve her.
“About the same.”
“That’s all you like about him?”
“That’s all you’re getting.” She stops at a red light. Takes a long sip. Looks to me. “How are you drinking hot coffee? It’s a million degrees.”
“It’s better hot.” I take a long sip of my medium roast.
“Black like your soul?”
I chuckle. “Joke only works if I take it black.”
“It still works.”
“Tell me something else.”
“Tell me yes.”
“No.”
“There’s your answer.”
“If you tell me, I can help.”
“How?”
“I could kick his ass,” I offer.