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“Right,” Mei says. “Okay. So we are curious.”
“I told you it was just a PR thing.” It’s not a lie, per se, but it’s definitely not the truth. Not anymore. I’m just not sure how much I should say, given that Lila and I haven’t discussed what we might tell people. If we’re even telling people at all. “Our publicists put it together.”
“Those pictures I saw looked downright saucy,” Bella points out.
I frown. “Who says saucy anymore?”
“Me, motherfucker,” Bella says, blowing a raspberry. “Don’t deflect.”
“I don’t have anything to tell you,” I say carefully. “At least…not right now.”
“Hmm.” Mei sounds thoughtful. “How about you invite your friend to dinner with us? I’d love to officially meet her.”
My nose scrunches as I watch little bubbles start to form in the pot of water. “That won’t be weird?”
“Only if there’s something going on,” Bella answers in an accusing tone.
Mei clucks her tongue. “No, not even then. It wouldn’t be weird at all, because Ian would totally be honest about what we were to each other to anyone he cared about, right?”
“Right,” I say immediately. I wince before adding, “If there was someone.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Bella huffs. “Bring the baker to dinner. Ha, baker. Get it? Because she’s a baker, and her name is Baker…”
Mei sighs wearily. “Honestly, I love you, but sometimes I do question it.”
“Sure you do.” I hear the sound of Bella smacking a kiss on Mei. “Keep telling yourself that.”
I hear Mei’s voice more clearly, and it seems like maybe she’s taken me off speakerphone. “We would love to see you,” she stresses. “And any of your…friends. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, I know,” I tell her. “I just need to make sure it’s okay with my…friend. Before confirming anything, yeah?”
“I get it,” she assures me. “Whenever you confirm things, let us know, okay?”
“You’ll be the first,” I say, which is probably true, outside of Jack. We’ll have to play it by ear. “I gotta go, okay? I’ll text you about dinner.”
“Okay. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
I set my phone on the counter after hanging up, mulling over the conversation, wondering if Lila will want to tell people about us. Realizing that I do. I want everyone to know she’s mine. I want to make sure that there’s zero chance of anyone snatching her away. I’ve never been possessive before, but something about Lila fills me with an almost caveman-like feeling, one that has me wanting to wrap her up in my arms and stow her away somewhere.
Which I know Lila would one thousand percent kick my ass for, if I ever dared to try.
I shake off the thought as I dump the dry spaghetti into the now-boiling water, flicking my eyes to the counter when my phone starts buzzing again. I answer without looking this time—mostly because I’m busy looking for the salt container for the pasta, and I assume it’s Mei calling again to tell me something she forgot the first time, which she has a habit of—absently clicking the speaker button to give her a taste of her own medicine.
“What did you forget this time?”
“Ian?”
I pause, my hand suspended in midair in front of one of Lila’s cabinets as I jerk my head toward the phone. I purse my lips, half considering pretending I’m too busy to talk. I don’t exactly want anything spoiling my good mood, and this conversation definitely has the potential to do so. Which almost makes me feel guilty for even thinking it.
“Abby,” I say finally. “What’s up?”
“Nothing much,” she answers quietly, but I know that’s not the case.
She never calls me unless there is something, and I have often wondered if that’s my fault.
I frown as I continue what I was doing, grabbing the salt and sprinkling some into the boiling water and giving the pasta a stir. “Sure about that?”
