Page 27 of Fly's Path

“Good.”

“But Lola—”

“No. Stop. I don’t want to hear it. Whatever it is you’re afraid of, or whatever reason you feel the need to try to push me away before we’ve even gotten a fair chance…stop. I’m not letting go.”

“Lola—”

“See, I liked the way you said my name that time. Just stop fighting this. And stop making my friends feel uncomfortable. Got it?”

“You know, for this to count as a conversation, we both need to be able to talk.”

She shrugs. “Only if I like what you’re going to say.”

“You shouldn’t ask this of me. Especially when I have a hard time telling you no.”

“That sounds like a you problem.”

Why is she as cute as a button while being completely frustrating?

“Good. Now that we’ve got that settled, I have a class tomorrow morning. Should I expect to find you outside my door?”

“Probably.” How am I going to explain this to Fly?

All The Tea

Sheridan

By the time we get back to Dahlia’s, it’s late in the afternoon. Dahlia heads upstairs to find her husband, giving me the perfect opportunity to get to work. She’s got to be tired from entertaining all of us nonstop. The least I can do is make a meal.

The dichotomy of her fridge and pantry is stumbling. It’s a mixture of ultra-healthy fruits and vegetables and all the sweets and processed foods known to mankind. I love it. It’s a cook’s dream. There are so many options. But my heart wants a comforting, warm meal. The kind that sticks to your bones.

Chicken and dumplings it is, with my grannie’s light-as-air dumplings. Since they seem to like veggies, I’ll sauté somespinach in the butter while making the roux and add a ton of carrots and peas from the freezer.

The meal comes together surprisingly quickly, then again, one-pot meals usually do.

Dahlia ambles in and stops. “I thought I smelled something amazing, but just thought it was my brain telling me to go cook. You didn’t have to do that.” She walks over to the pot, glances in, and takes a deep breath. “Amazing.”

Yes, I did. I wanted to be able to sit and eat without feeling guilty. “It’ll taste even better when I add my grandmother’s dumplings.”

“I’ve never seen chicken and dumplings with so many vegetables.”

Uh-oh. “I thought, um, because you had so many veggies in the fridge that—”

Dahlia sets a hand on my arm. “It’s perfect. Maverick will love it, and so will I. How can I help?”

“I’ve got it. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes. All that’s left is dropping the dumplings in. So what did I miss today?” Let’s talk about anything but what I did. Anything at all.

“They went through with it. I mean, I get Winnie kissing a random guy. She’s bold enough to try anything. But Savie…she acts all bold and brash, but that woman is as shy as the rest of us.”

“I’m not shy.” Why did I say that out loud?

Dahlia’s eyes narrow. “What did you do?”

“So who did Savie kiss?”

“Nope. Nuh-uh. You’re not going to distract me. Who did you kiss? And why didn’t you share with the rest of the group?”

How do I explain the weirdness that was? “It isn’t a big deal.”