I watched as the beautiful woman talked about these kids who had needed a mother, and I was amazed at how much she loved them. They weren’t her kids, but she loved them as if they were. I hadn’t known that was possible. I often told myself that Mrs. Williams hated me because I wasn’t hers. Because she hadn’t given birth to me. But seeing Trisha tear up talking about these kids who she obviously adored made my heart squeeze but also made me feel empty inside.

“Wow,” I managed to say. I knew I needed to say something. She had just told me a lot in the ten minutes I’d been sitting here. “That’s a really great story. Those kids are very lucky to have someone like you and your husband in their lives. Many kids don’t get that.” I stopped talking when I realized how much I was about to give away.

“Can I get y’all something to drink?” a waitress asked, interrupting my slipup. I had never been so thankful to be asked what I wanted to drink in my life. I knew that whatever I told Trisha was going to get back to Krit. As much as I wanted a female friendship, we didn’t have that yet. I wasn’t ready to trust her with my story.

“Diet Coke,” Trisha told her. “And some pickles, please. Extra ranch.”

“Sweet tea,” I replied.

The waitress turned and left, and Trisha looked back at me. “The fried pickles are amazing. You’ll love them. Anyway, enough about me. Tell me about you. All I know is you moved here for school, and my brother has taken a keen interest in you. Which never happens by the way, so you have me completely fascinated.”

I didn’t have much I could tell her about me. And I needed to clarify my relationship with her brother before she got it any more confused in her head, keeping in mind she’d repeat this conversation to Krit. I tucked some hair behind my ear as I gathered my thoughts.

“Well, I grew up in a small town in South Carolina. Extremely small. We had two traffic lights in town, if that tells you just how small. My mother died during childbirth. There were complications. She didn’t have any parents or other living family. She was an orphan and was raised in the system since she was ten. The church she attended was the largest church in town.” I paused, because honestly I didn’t know why Pastor Williams and Mrs. Williams had taken me in. They hadn’t wanted me. That much was obvious. They never said anything even remotely as touching as what Trisha had said about her kids. And they also never had kids of their own. I wasn’t sure if that was because they couldn’t or because Mrs. Williams wasn’t the motherly type.

“Um, and well, I don’t know why exactly, but the pastor at the church my mother attended and his wife took me home with them. I wasn’t adopted or anything, but they kept me and raised me.” I wasn’t going to give her any more details about that part of my life. The truth hurt, and hiding it was impossible. I was too expressive. “I wanted to go somewhere different for college and be close to the water. I hadn’t grown up near water. Pastor Williams is friends with Pastor Keenan, so he lined up a job for me here with him, and I enrolled at the local college. So that’s it,” I said, happy with my explanation and hoping she didn’t dig into it anymore.

The waitress set drinks and small round deep-fried slices of pickles down in front of us. I had never had deep-fried pickles before, and I wasn’t sure if I liked the idea of them. It seemed wrong.

“Do y’all know what you wanna eat?” the waitress asked.

I glanced down at the menu and realized I hadn’t even looked at it. “What’s good?” I asked Trisha.

“Do you eat tuna?” she asked.

I nodded. I had eaten a lot of canned tuna growing up, and I wasn’t a fan, exactly, but I didn’t want to tell her that. I liked it well enough. I’d just had too much. She gave me a reassuring smile and turned back to the waitress. “Two seared tuna paninis please. With the chips,” she said, then turned back to me. “Trust me.” She winked.

I had no idea what seared tuna was because they didn’t have that in a can. I nodded and returned Trisha’s smile. She was hard not to smile at. “Okay,” I replied.

Once the waitress walked away, Trisha turned her eyes back on me. “There are a few things that seem odd about your story, but I have the feeling you’re telling me what you feel safe telling me right now. I respect that, so I’m not going to dig. Now, tell me about you and Krit.”

She was seriously blunt. It was as scary as it was refreshing. You didn’t have to wonder what she was thinking, that was for sure. She would just tell you.

“Krit is my friend . . . ,” I began. “He has been very kind and thoughtful from day one. He makes me laugh, and he always seems to know when I need to laugh. He’s special. I don’t imagine there are many guys like him out there. I don’t have much—well, any experience really—with guys, but from what I can see, Krit isn’t like most of them. He has a really big heart, and he doesn’t seem to realize how special he is. Which makes him even more special.” I was rambling, and from the wide-eyed look on Trisha’s face, I was not doing a good job of hiding my feelings for her brother.

“Special,” she repeated slowly, as if she needed to let that word sink in. My face grew hot, and I knew my cheeks were flaming. Dang it, I sucked at this.

“I don’t think I can remember a time in my life when anyone ever called my brother special and meant it the way you just did.” The pleased look on her face made me calm down a little. Maybe she did get what I had been trying to say. He was a good friend.

“I needed a friend when I moved here, and he noticed that and filled the void. I don’t imagine most guys, especially ones who look like him, would do something like that for someone like me. He has beautiful girls on his arm all the time. They throw themselves at him. Yet he took the time to be my friend.” Much better. I felt like patting myself on the back.

Trisha stared at me as if she were trying mentally to dissect me. I decided I would take one of those pickles now, because I needed something else to think about other than Krit’s sister reading too much into my words. The last thing I needed was for her to go tell him I thought he was special.

“Can I ask you something?” she finally said, breaking the awkward silence.

I nodded, and chewed the fried pickle, which was surprisingly tasty.

“Do you really mean what you said?”

I swallowed and stared at her. Did I look like I was making it up? “Uh, yeah, I meant it. He’s—” I could not say special again. I sounded like an idiot. I needed more adjectives in my vocabulary. Well, I had more where Krit was concerned, but they weren’t safe to use around his very perceptive sister. “Krit’s wonderful. But then, you’re his sister. You know that.”

A slow smile stretched across her face. “Yeah I do,” she replied.

Before things could get any more intense and I could make an even bigger idiot of myself, the food arrived.

“Tonight we’re having a party for Daisy May at Amanda Hardy’s mother’s house. She has a pool, and Amanda wanted Daisy to have a pool party. It will be friends and family. I’d love it if you could come. Krit has a thing tonight, so he will only be stopping by to give Daisy a gift and, knowing him, grab a piece of cake. But I want you to meet everyone. My friends. Amanda will love you, and since you’re new, I know meeting people who are a part of this town would be nice.”

I didn’t like crowds and parties, but lately I was getting better. A child’s birthday party wasn’t like the wild parties Krit had, and Trisha was right. I’d like to meet more people. I wasn’t doing well getting to know my classmates. I got to my classes on time and hurried out as soon as they ended. This kind of setting seemed safe.

“Thanks. I’d love to come.”

KRIT

Britt collapsed on top of me as she fought to catch her breath. I wasn’t one to cuddle after sex, but I’d give her a minute before moving her off me so I could take a shower. I hadn’t planned on having sex with Britt today, but she’d shown up around four, had basically stripped, and then had gone on her knees right there in my living room.

I was pent up, and since she was so very willing and determined, I let her help me unwind. Turning my head, I glanced at the clock. It was almost five. Shit! I needed to get something for dinner and go down to Blythe’s.

“Off you go,” I told Britt as I moved her and climbed out of the bed.

“Wait. I want a round two,” she said in a voice I knew was meant to be sexy, but right now I had more important things on my mind.

“Got plans, babe. But thanks.” I paused and waved at the bed. “For that.”

Reaching for my phone, I headed for the shower. I needed to text Blythe and let her know I’d be a few minutes late. More like thirty. Fuck, I wouldn’t even have time to talk to her today.

My phone lit up, and I glanced down to see my sister’s name. I opened the text message.

TRISHA: DON’T FORGET THAT DAISY MAY’S BIRTHDAY PARTY IS AT SIX THIRTY AT MARCUS’S MOTHERS HOUSE.

Shit! I threw the phone down on the counter and turned on the shower. I hadn’t bought Daisy a present yet, and she had told me she wanted a sparkly pink purse and lip gloss when I’d asked her last week. I didn’t know where the hell to buy a sparkly pink purse.

I took the fastest shower in history and wrapped a towel around me. Then I grabbed my phone to text Blythe. I wasn’t going to be able to make it to dinner tonight. Not that I had told her I would be there, but now it was just kind of an understood thing with us again. I didn’t want her to expect me and then I didn’t show up.

ME: NOT GONNA BE ABLE TO DO DINNER TONIGHT.

I hated sending her a text. She was my friend and just a friend, and it was normal for me to tell her I couldn’t show up in a text. I waited for a response, but one didn’t come right away, so I went to grab some clothes and get dressed.

Britt was pulling on the short skirt and hooker heels she had worn over here. How she walked in those without breaking her ankle, I didn’t know. “Where you hurrying off to? You got hours before you gotta be at the club,” she said as she tugged her bra back on.

My phone vibrated, and I jerked it out of my jeans pocket where I had just tucked it in.

BLYTHE: THAT’S FINE. I’LL SEE YOU LATER.

That was it. She didn’t ask why or act upset. She was just okay with it. Why did it bug the hell out of me that she didn’t expect more from me? Women always expected more. It was what kept me from getting too close to one. I didn’t want to give them more. But Blythe . . . She expected nothing. Fuck, that drove me crazy.

It was now ten minutes after five, and I still had to find a pink sparkly purse and lip gloss. Where the hell was I supposed to even look for those?

Britt walked over to me with a pleased smile on her face. Why was she still here? We were finished, and I had shit to do. “Where you off to in such a hurry?” she asked again as she slid her hand up my arm and into my hair.

Shrugging her off, I grabbed my wallet and stuck it into my back pocket. “My niece has a birthday party,” I explained. See, this was normal. Britt wanted to know why I was leaving her. Where I was going. She was demanding answers by not getting the fuck out of my house. This was what women did.

Not Blythe.

But then I hadn’t . . . Hell, I couldn’t even think it. If I let myself think about being with Blythe the way I was just with Britt, I would get the hard-on from hell. Shaking my head, I walked away from Britt and into the living room.

“You seem angry. Normally, you’re much more laid-back and happy after you fuck,” she said as she followed me.

“Normally, you get your shit on and leave,” I shot back at her.

Britt rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips. “Are you grumpy because you have to go to a kid’s birthday party?”

I opened the door. “I have to go find a sparkly pink purse, Britt. I don’t have time for twenty fucking questions,” I growled in hopes she’d get the hint and leave.

She laughed and walked to the door. “You will never find a sparkly pink purse on your own. For once in your life, you need me, Krit Corbin. Come on, I’ll show you where to find that purse.”

Of course Britt would know where to look for the purse. Why hadn’t I thought of that? Slightly relieved, I started down the stairs after her. The moment Blythe’s door came into view, though, my bad mood was back. I liked my evenings with Blythe. Seeing her smile and listening to her talk—they were what I looked forward to all day. If Britt hadn’t shown up and started sucking my cock, I wouldn’t have run out of time. Disgusted with myself, I headed down to the parking lot.