Pretty Little Thing (Central Valley U)
“All. Day. I may as well have been chopped liver with the way those two carried on.”
“How does that make you feel?”
I shrug and pop a fry into my mouth. “Confused, mostly.”
“I get that.”
“Do you?” I ask, but she simply gestures for me to keep going. “This probably isn’t very surprising, but I don’t let a lot of people in.”
“No,” Stella drawls, “you don’t say.”
“But somehow, you and Orion crept right in, and a part of me is so thankful not to be alone anymore.”
“And the other part?”
I look down at the table, not wanting to see the pity on her face when I answer. “The other part is waiting for it to all be ripped away.”
“Oh, Frankie.” Stella clasps my hand between hers. “I hate to break it to you, but I’m a long-haul kind of friend. And like, really hard to get rid of.”
Despite my best efforts not to, I smile. Because that’s what Stella does—she parts people’s clouds with her bright, sunshiny smile and relentless optimism.
“It’s hard though, you know? I’ve been alone most of my life, and while I could probably handle losing y’all, I don’t know that Maverick could.”
“First of all, rude.” Stella drops my hand so that she can count off her points, like somehow holding her fingers up as she rattles them off makes the words mean more. “Second, you would be devastated to lose me, so quit lying to yourself.” She holds up another finger. “And while I can’t technically speak for Orion, I’m going to anyway, and say I don’t think you need to worry about losing him, either. I’ve never seen him act like he does with you.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, my food forgotten.
“Did you know that my brother hates kids?”
“What?” Visions of him playing with Mav play like a movie reel in my mind. “He loves kids.”
“No.” Stella shakes her head, her eyes never leaving mine. “He likes your kid.”
“That’s crazy.”
She lifts one perfectly arched brow. “Is it?”
“Definitely.” I don’t know if she bumped her head and has short-term memory loss or what, but from the moment they met, Orion and Maverick have just clicked. You can’t fake that kind of affection.
“Ask him,” Stella challenges. “If you don’t believe me, ask him.”
“Maybe I will.” I won’t—I just really want her to drop the subject, because it’s making my skin itch.
“Good.” Stella takes a big slurp of her drink and then turns back to me. “Oh, hey, what are you doing on Sunday? You’re off, right?”
“Um, yeah.” A small part of me worries something bad is coming, but I squash it down. I can’t spend my whole life waiting for the other shoe to drop. Plus, friends ask friends their plans all the time. “Why?”
“My parents do a big dinner every Sunday, and I was wondering if you and Maverick wanted to tag along? They have a huge yard and my mom’s food is so. Dang. Good.”
“I wouldn’t want to intrude…” Not to mention, what if his mom is mad he didn’t make it last week?
“You wouldn’t be.” Stella grabs my hand again and squeezes it softly. “Promise.”
“Are you sure?”
“Mom’s philosophy is the more the merrier. Just say yes, please?”
“Fine. Yes,” I relent, already begging the universe not to make me regret it.
CHAPTER TEN
ORION
I’m kicked back in the recliner, simply enjoying the quiet, when Samson comes in and ruins it.
“Think fast!” He tosses a glass bottle of Coke at my head.
“Shit!” I barely catch it, thanks to the condensation. “The hell, man?”
“Gotta stay on your toes,” he says, like a jackass, as he drops down onto the loveseat opposite of me.
“Pretty sure living with a four-year-old keeps me on my toes just fine.”
Samson grins and pops the top on his Coke. “How’s that going?”
“It’s…different.”
His grin morphs into a smirk. “Sounds to me like you like it.”
“Sounds to me like you need to pass me the bottle opener.”
He tosses it my way, and I snag it midair. I crack open my Coke and toss both the cap and the opener onto the coffee table.
“Seriously, man—Stella says you’re pretty gone over the kid.”
“He’s all right.” I’m fucking lying though—Maverick’s cool as hell. It’s his mom that has me all twisted up.
“What about Frankie?” Samson asks, like he’s able to read my mind.
“What about her?” My gruff tone isn’t fooling anyone, much less my oldest friend. He knows me like the back of his hand.
“She just…” I don’t even know how to put it into words. She’s so fucking down to earth, and watching her with Maverick sets off some sort of caveman instinct I didn’t even know I had. Every time I see the two of them, I want to claim them as mine, which is insane. I barely know the woman.
But at the same time, it feels like I’ve known her forever.