Page 19 of Homebound

“You’ve got to love a sexy single dad who cooks,” she says, sucking until the joint’s tip glows more red than her hair. “Does he have any brothers?”

“No, he’s an only child.”

“What a shame.” She blows a smoke ring. “Hey, will you come to the farmer’s market with me this weekend? I feel like I’ve barely seen you.”

“I can’t. I have to train.”

“You’re always training,” she whines. “Why do you say no to everything? Just come out with me.”

Guilt prickles in my skin. I want to hang out with her, but I can’t sacrifice any time training, especially not with the Granite Falls rodeo coming up at the end of the summer.

“I’m hanging out with you now,” I counter.

“Only because I basically dragged your ass here, which is fine. I’ll reel you back in anytime you pull away.”

“The world needs more Lanas,” I say. “You’re my favorite.”

“Aw,” she sing-songs. “You’re my favorite.”

I’ve sacrificed one too many relationships for my career, but I don’t want to think about all the sacrifices I’ve made. All it does is fill me with this weird mix of regret and determination. I’ve missed out on so much that I have to make it now.

Looking out at the rolling grassy fields, I rock back in a white porch chair. Alanna’s teeny cottage is nestled on an acre of old oaks, but it’s decorated like an upscale designer renovated the chic interior, whereas my place is a hodgepodge of hand-me-down antiques.

I wind up my arm and toss the tennis ball high into the pink sky, watching it arc before it lands with a soft thud in the tall grasses.

Luna hobbles off. It always takes her forever to get it, but she loves fetching.

“If you’re still hunting for someone at farmers markets, I’m sure Patterson would date you,” I say. “He’s the commitment type, so I could put in a good word.”

Alanna shakes her fiery hair. “Nope. No thanks. Kids are cute, but I’m not like you. I want to keep my life as it is, and I don’t want to give up my preventative Botox appointments during pregnancy.”

“Why do you do preventative Botox? You’re naturally stunning.”

Alanna is one of those women who turns every head in the room, and she’s got a killer personality, so she’s basically got it all.

She gestures to herself with a snort. “You think this is au naturel? Babe, I drive into Austin three times a month to get work done. Once to color my hair so it’s this ‘natural’ shade of auburn, once to get chemicals injected into my forehead so it stays wrinkle-free, and once to get my eyelash extensions. I’m a carefully crafted stunner.”

“But a stunner nonetheless.”

“That’s because I don’t scowl all the time like you,” she throws back, gesturing to her forehead. “I can’t afford frown lines.”

“I don’t scowl all the time,” I grumble, but Alanna has a point.

My sense of humor is painfully sarcastic, my raspy voice sounds like a chain-smoker, and I don’t like my face when I smile, so I rarely smile. All of that is the perfect combination for a chronic case of resting bitch face. I’ve had guys tell me I look constipated when I grin, so I stopped. But I care deeply about the people in my life, and all I want is for someone to love my rough edges.

People call me mean, but I’m just a little spicy.

“You do, babe,” she says. “But that’s why you’re the Bonnie to my Clyde. The yin to my yang. The coffee to my cinnamon roll dairy-free creamer.”

I laugh into the sunset. Alanna and I shouldn’t work as friends, but I’ve been trapped in a man’s world for so long that I crave female friendships. I’m an only-child boys’ girl, and she’s a textbook big-family girls’ girl, but for some reason, we’re like long-lost sisters.

Alanna’s a Houston princess who comes from old money, and she’s high maintenance but handles her own maintenance. She’s got a closet of snakeskin boots and fringe jackets she only pulls out in winter and always manages to keep her linen jumpsuits wrinkle-free. She’s what we call “cowgirl chic” because you’d never actually wear those clothes on a ranch.

They’d get too dirty.

She’s one of the best people I know. I managed to wiggle my way into her life when she moved here from the city.

There are just some strangers that pop into your life, and when you meet them, you think, Now, that’s someone I’ve got to keep, and that was Lana for me. We just work—even though she won’t stop trying to get me on her thirty-two-step skincare routine.