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“Mmm, likely story. Cat seemed pretty enamored of you.”

Avery rolled her eyes at Taylor.

“I could say the same about you and Blake. Are you going to see her again? What’s her story?”

Taylor shrugged.

“I don’t know. She says she’ll stop by Noble sometime to see me, so we’ll see if that happens.” She unlocked the car as they approached it and changed the subject. “I didn’t know that you painted those bookshelves at your place.”

“Oh yeah.” Avery got into the car. “It started a whole decorating thing for me. I’d always wanted to have a nicer living space, one that felt cozy and also a little fancy, you know, but at first I couldn’t afford anything—or at least, I thought I couldn’t—and Derek was so boring and never wanted to do anything. I had followed all of these decorating people on Instagram for a while, and when I was still with him, it made me just feel sad and resentful. But when I moved out, I realized I could do something about it, so I did.”

“But wait, you’re telling me that all the furniture and decorations in your apartment are things you’ve gotten since the breakup? That was only a few months ago!”

“Yeah.” It felt good that Taylor seemed so impressed. “I haunted garage sales and antique fairs and Facebook Marketplace for furniture and stuff, and I found a ton of good deals. I was slightly obsessed for a while there.”

Taylor smiled at that.

“And your place is so cute now. At least, what I remember of it.” She sent a sideways grin to Avery, who let herself grin back.

“Thank you, I appreciate that. I worked hard on it.”

“Have you really been thinking about painting it?” Taylor asked.

“Yeah, my landlord said she doesn’t care as long as I paint it white before I move out. She didn’t paint before I moved in; I was kind of in a rush to move in, so I told her I’d do it, and managed to negotiate being able to paint any color. But I’ve been frozen on which color, so I haven’t done anything. But lately…”

“You’ve been thinking what the hell?” Taylor asked.

Avery smiled and nodded.

“It’s silly—no wait, I’m going to stop saying that, let me start again. There’s this artist I follow on Instagram, and she always says, ‘It’s just paint.’ And I realized that’s true. It’s just paint! It’s not permanent. If I hate it, I can paint over it.”

“So why haven’t you done it yet?” Taylor asked.

Avery glared at her.

“I’m getting there, okay? I even bought a few testers of paint colors and some brushes to see what colors I like. I just haven’t…quite put it on the walls yet.”

Taylor let out a long, deep sigh.

“Do you need me to come over and stand there while you open those cans of paint and try them out on your walls? Say the word, and I’ll do it.”

Avery didn’t hesitate.

“How about right now?”

Taylor’s head turned with a jerk.

“Right now?”

“I’m all inspired after painting that pottery! But I know if I’m alone, I’ll chicken out.” Taylor didn’t think she was trying something, did she? No, she’d made it clear nothing further would happen between them. Friends helped their friends paint, no big deal. “But if you can’t tonight—”

Taylor laughed.

“No, you’re right, you will chicken out if you’re alone. Okay, let’s do it. Can we pick up some takeout on the way, though? The wine was good at that thing, but the snacks were subpar.”

“And there were hardly any of them! How about pizza?”

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