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It takes only seconds before my mom is rounding the island and wrapping me up in her arms, holding me tight in a way she hasn’t done—in a way I haven’t let her do—since I was a child.
“And that’smyfault,” she tells me, rocking us slowly back and forth as she holds me close. “That’s my fault, Little Bee.”
I cry into her shoulder, wishing I had just…talked to her sooner so we wouldn’t have this chasm between us, this open space we need to bridge. This thing has made us both brittle in how we talk to each other, how we act with each other for the past few years.
“I think I was so focused on what I wanted I didn’t even think about what you were going through.” She presses a kiss against my temple. “I’m so sorry.”
We embrace for a long time, so long that eventually Junie walks over and wraps her arms around my legs. “I’n a hug,” she says.
I let go of my mother and reach down to pick Junie up then wipe at my face, drying a few of the tears that have fallen free.
“Moms are imperfect,” my mother says, tucking some of Junie’s hair behind her ear, just like she did to mine a few minutes ago. “Even if we screw things up, weneverstoploving you.” She leans in and kisses my temple again. “That’s a promise.”
chapter sixteen
Reid
“So what are you doing with this stuff?” Nick asks, grabbing one end of the couch and lifting it as I lift the other.
“Just doing a few deliveries.”
I walk forward as he walks backward, moving the piece out to the trailer I have sitting outside the shop. Once we’ve gotten it in, I shift it slightly, adjusting the padding before scooting the couch snug against the railing.
“Since when doyoudo deliveries,” he asks, chuckling. “I thought you hired people to do that.”
I wrap the strap around the couch then begin to cinch it so everything is held snugly in place.
“Normally, I do.”
Finished with the couch, I hop down from the trailer and head back into the shop, motioning to the coffee table that’s sitting on one of the lower racks.
“So what’s different about these?” he asks. “You sleeping with the customer or something? Providing a little…extra service.”
He laughs, but when I pin him with a look that says I don’t find it funny, his jaw drops slightly.
“Wait,areyou? Because I was just joking, but…”
“I’m not sleeping with the customer,” I tell him, rolling my eyes. “I’m not sleeping withanyone.”
The last part I mumble more to myself, but I know Nick still hears it.
We pick up the coffee table and get it loaded into the trailer, but once I’ve finished getting it tightened up and jumped down, he asks again.
“So, what’s the deal?”
I don’t want to tell him the pieces are for Busy, because he’s already highly suspicious of our friendship. Nick has made comments on more than one occasion about how much time Busy and I spend together, and I don’t want to add fuel to the fire. But I know if I don’t tell him, it’ll become a thing, and that might even be worse. Besides, he’s going to find out eventually.
“They’re for Busy,” I say, shutting the tailgate and dropping the pin in place to keep it secure. Then I glare at Nick, who is looking at me with his eyebrows high on his forehead. “Don’t make it a bigger deal than it is.”
He’s quiet as I head back inside the shop and gather up a few tools to return to the toolbox in my truck then drop the wide rolling door and lock up. For a few seconds, I wonder if he might actually let the subject go. We hop into the cab of my truck and pull slowly out of the parking lot.
“Come on, man,whatis going on with you two?” he asks, chuckling as we turn onto Fourth Street. “I mean, first you guys are eye-fucking at The Mitch, and I know you’re hanging out a lot. You said you hooked up—”
“Kissed.Once.”
“—but what gives?”
I flick my blinker, staying quiet until we turn onto the main road.
