Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 144042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 720(@200wpm)___ 576(@250wpm)___ 480(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 720(@200wpm)___ 576(@250wpm)___ 480(@300wpm)
“So, you’re a professional friend?” she asks me.
“I am.” I smile wryly. “You know, aside from pet sitting.”
She laughs softly. “How does that work? I mean, are there really that many people looking for a hired friend?”
“The world is filled with lonely people. Most of us forge our friendships in childhood or college. Maybe you make a core group of friends at your first job. But if you miss those friendship milestones?” I glance around at them. “Or a permanent change in your lifestyle has you drifting apart from your old friends, what then?”
“It happened to me,” Libby says. “The drifting apart. I spent over a year alone, not talking to anyone, before Killian ended up on my lawn.”
“And what do you do if no one drifts into your life?” I say. “How do you make new friends? It isn’t that easy. When you’re older, you’re less able to trust new people or let yourself go.”
“I hate making friends,” Brenna grumbles, her nose wrinkling. “Actively hate it. Most people I meet end up asking for concert tickets or want to meet the guys.”
Sophie hums in agreement. “It feels different with you guys. Safer, I guess. Because we aren’t looking to get anything from the other—just companionship.”
I watch them from my spot at the edge of the pool. “I didn’t want to get in the car with you because I don’t know how to do real friendship. It’s like an ill-fitting dress that I’m always trying to tug into place.”
Brenna’s eyes grow soft. “But you did.”
“Because you’re in, just as we are,” Sophie says.
In? I shake my head sadly. “I’m not, though. I’m completely out.”
Sophie scoffs. “Even if you never speak to Jax again, you’ll still be in. You’re one of us now. We don’t abandon our friends because our other friend is being a dillweed.”
I laugh softly, appreciating the sentiment. But I don’t want to talk about John. “Anyway, I had more customers than you might imagine. But I’m quitting.” I trail my fingers through the cold water. “It started to take too much out of me. And, really, it was never a permanent gig.”
Libby pushes off from the corner and skims across the pool, her eyes squinting in the sunlight. “What are you planning to do now?”
Panic. Cry. Wall myself up so tight, no one gets in again. How long is this going to hurt?
I stuff those wild thoughts away with a long sip of fruity cocktail. “I honestly don’t know. It was stupid of me not to start a career. Here I am at thirty, and I might as well be fresh out of college for all the planning I’ve prepared. ”
“I never had a clue either. Killian got me into singing. Even then, I resisted because I was scared.”
“I love to fly planes,” I tell them. “But I don’t want to do it as a career. If I’m honest, the kind of flying I want to do won’t pay for a place in the city.”
Libby’s eyes go wide. “What kind of fly do you do?”
“Aerobatics.”
“That’s so cool! Will you take me up some day?”
“Sure. I can take anyone who wants to go later this week, if you want.”
Instantly, all of them jump on the chance, with Libby doing a little happy dance in her pool float. Laughing, I make mental notes on how I can organize the flights. “I’m surprised John didn’t tell you guys about my flying,” I say when I’m done planning.
Brenna’s tone is tentative, knowing full well that the subject of John is a potential minefield. “For all his bravado, he’s weirdly private. The more he cares about something or someone, the less he talks about it.”
It isn’t exactly a truth bomb; I’ve known this about him for a while. But she definitely tore open a wound. Everyone looks elsewhere. Until Sophie hops into the pool, creating a nice splash over us. She reemerges, her blue hair slicked down over her shoulders. “I enjoyed photography,” she says, pretending we never veered off topic. “But I never settled into something I loved until I started taking pictures of the band.”
“I’m a planner,” Brenna says from the bar where she’s fixing up another batch of cocktails. “That doesn’t mean I feel settled or particularly happy all the time.”
I was happy with John. So damn happy, all the rest of my worries seemed lighter. Now, my world is heavy and dark. And, damn it all, I shouldn’t be letting a man make me sink this low.
Brenna takes a sip from the pitcher, then adds a little more rum. “I figure none of us are ever going to feel that every aspect of our life is perfect all at once.”
John had said much the same. God, he’s spread all through my life. I can’t produce a thought that doesn’t have him in it somehow. I flick the water in irritation and focus on the conversation. “I love working with people. I like helping them. I just don’t know what to do with that. I want something more concrete. Healthcare and benefits sounds really nice these days.”