Page 28 of My Best Friend's Dad

Like the bread sweated.

I don’t care. It’s fucking delicious.

I look up from cramming food into my mouth and swallowing like there’s not going to be a tomorrow. We’re both still soaked, but the sun is fully out now, and the wind has died down, so it’s only regular cold and not frigid. It’s slightly uncomfortable and itchy, but hunger triumphs over comfort at the moment.

Also? I’m not sure I can get back on my feet and get my head clear of dancing black spots without nutrition first.

Bellatrix has her face turned to the side. She’s eating daintily, like a regular human. I don’t mean for it to happen, but my eyes rake down her body. Her dress clings to her like a second skin, outlining her curves. Especially the curves of her breasts, including the hard ridges of her nipples. Her sweater has slipped off her shoulder, revealing pale, creamy skin and a smattering of goosebumps. Her legs are stretched out before her, her dress riding up to reveal slim calves and more goosebumps.

She’s sitting on cold cement, soaking wet, because of me.

She turns, and I quickly jerk my eyes back to her face. Guilt swamps me for staring at her and getting us into this mess. I should have just manned up and eaten the damn tacos.

I have zero fancy words for a vagina, but my brain takes a sharp wrong turn, diving straight off the cliff ofgood and properandending straight insmut central. I get the full show of images from me getting us somewhere warm and stripping off Bellatrix’s sodden clothing to getting her in a hot shower, going down on my knees, and replacing my taco-repulsive reflex with a new love of her lady taco.

Fuck.

Now, her nipples aren’t the only thing that’s hard and probably visible.

Double fuck.

“These are good.” I ram another bite into my mouth. “Weally gwood.”

Her full lips arch up, and a water droplet slides to the end to lodge on the adorable upturn of her nose. “Santastic fanwiches.”

“Was that the name of the place?”

She snorts. “No. I’m pretty shitty at making things up, and I would never be creative enough to come up with one of those combined names that couples do. I’d totally recommend thesandwich place to anyone though. The girl who made them was so nice. Such a sweetheart. Her parents own it, so it’s a mom-and-pop shop, I guess.”

Sunlight glistens off the river and pours into the gazebo, though the warmth from those rays isn’t direct and doesn’t hit the same.

Bellatrix turns her face to it when she notices me staring out the side. “My parents were disappointed that I didn’t become a doctor like my mom or a lawyer like my dad.” She flicks her eyes to my face and grins. “I know. The two most obvious clichés. Sometimes, I think their marriage is so successful because they’re never home at the same time, so they never get tired of seeing each other. They’re married to their careers first, and that was always established. They have a strange relationship, I guess, but they’re in love. I can tell.” She ducks her head, tracing one of the red cursive letters on the sandwich paper with her index finger. “I don’t even think they could argue that I’m good at what I do. Because I’m really good at it. I’ve had some potential disasters, but everything has always come out right in the end.”

“I never understood why people actually have a wedding planner.”

She shoots me an incredulous look. I empty one of the little plastic containers of pickle slices into my mouth and sigh dramatically, which causes her annoyance to fade slightly.

“It’s a lot of work. It can be stressful and overwhelming. Some people just want to get married without all the hassle,” she tells me.

“They could just hire a JP and sign the papers.”

“They could, but people get spoon-fed this idea of a dream wedding their whole life. It means a lot to someone, even if it’s not the bride and groom. Sometimes that’s the best part, and sometimes it’s the worst. Bridezillas aren’t the only ones youhave to watch for.” She claws her hands and holds them up by her face, imitating a fire-breathing dragon. “Sometimes it’s the mother or the mother-in-law.”

“I cared,” I say before my brain can catch up to the calories I’m giving it. “The first time.”

She softens and drops her hands, blushing slightly, like she was going to roar, too, and can’t believe she almost did it.

“I have a daughter. But then, you already know that.” It’s only logical that if she read up on me, she’d know about Mika. And her age. And my age.

The blush deepens, but there’s no denial. She bobs her head. I don’t know if she’s mortified at looking me up or if she wants to give me privacy, but she focuses entirely on her sandwich.

“We were young. Marlene got pregnant. I was stupidly in love. My parents wanted me to wait and make sure. They told me a baby was no reason to get married, but for me, that wasn’t the reason. The timing, maybe, but not the reason. I want to say she was in love with me, too, but we were so young. Maybe she was scared, or maybe she just changed. We got a divorce a few years later. I was struggling, trying to get my antique shop up and running. I was doing the online thing, working the store myself, doing all the advertising and online parts, and going out picking. I was doing it for us, but I think she felt abandoned half the time. It wasn’t going to be like that forever, but we didn’t survive until that part.”

Bellatrix picks off a little of the top bun and chews slowly. “I’m sorry.”

The crazy thing is, when she says it, it doesn’t sound all wrong or inadequate or like lip service. Those words cut through me. I clear my throat, and my next words are a little bit husky. “Then, I found this vase a few months later.The vase.”

“I read that it was worth millions.”