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Somehow, this hug has turned into her bouncing. And she is shaking me right along with her. I gently remove her arms from around me and take a step back. “AzzyJo. Take a breath.” She does, followed by a few more. “That’s right, in through your nose. Calm down.” She just rolls those green eyes. I swear, she'd bring home gold if eye-rolling were an Olympic sport.

“Sorry, I’m just excited. You know how I get.”

Yes, I surely do. After a lifetime of friendship with Azalea Josephine Barnes as my personal cheerleader, I know exactly how much energy she puts into everything. The girl practically radiates sunshine.

“I know, and you’ll get to do all of those things, promise. Let’s just take it slow. We have plenty of time.” I offer a smile to reassure her. “In fact, let’s talk about it a bit more over tacos tonight.”

She squeals at the mention of our dinner plans. “Yes! Let’s do that.” I nod and start toward the doorway to head back tomy station when she calls out, “Oh! I forgot to tell you, I invited Simon too. Is that okay?”

“For sure. You know I love Simon. Is D coming too?"

She scoffs. "Yes, Drake too, and he mentioned bringing a friend. I swear to God, Myles, if he brings some tramp, I'll gut him like a fish."

"Sure, you will. Play nice, 'kay?"

Simon McAllister has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. He lived with his daddy in the house next door to my Grams. He’s a few years older than me, but his daddy was real piece of work, so he was always over at our house.

He was a quiet boy around most people, but he always talked to me. He said I was special, that I was like his sister, and that family stuck together. And to this day, we have stuck together like glue. He quickly adopted AzzyJo as an honorary sister as well, and the rest is history.

Nothing could tear us apart. Not our age difference, not even significant others along the way. We formed our own little wolf pack. Azalea and I were thirteen when Drake moved to town. He grew up here and moved away with his mama for a bit. He came back as soon as a judge said he was old enough to choose.

The running joke then became that one day, we would split off into couples and live happily ever after. No way, no how. I firmly believe you don’t mess with friendships like that. Not to mention, I just don’t see those guys that way.

Sure, they’re both attractive enough—Simon with his dark blond hair and piercing blue eyes, and Drake with his deep tan from working on the farm, eyes the color of whiskey, and that small gap in his front teeth. They made the girls in Dogwood crazy growing up. Probably still do, but ignorance is bliss, y’all.

Now, Drake and Azalea, that is a different story altogether. They are either thick as thieves or oil and water. You can neverknow what to expect from them. They are the very definition of sexual tension.

Azaleaand I close the salon down and head over to Azteca’s, home of the best damn Tex-Mex this side of the Mississippi. It’s a funky little place with large round wooden tables, terra cotta tile floors, and walls painted like the sunset.

Seriously, people come from all over the county for this deliciousness. We walk inside and I’m instantly hit with the aroma of sizzling onions and peppers. My mouth waters, and I swear my little bean does a happy flop in my belly.

I squeal and grab AzzyJo’s hand, placing it on my belly. “AZ! The bean moved!” We both know I'm not far enough along to feel any real movement, but all the same, her excitement immediately mirrors mine. I can only imagine the picture we paint, bouncing and squealing and talking to my belly. People probably think we’re nuts.

The hostess is kind enough to allow us our moment before guiding us back to our usual table. We don’t bother with the menus. This is a long-standing tradition for us, and we get the same thing every time—Tacos de Carnitas with a heaping side of guac for me, and steak tacos for Azalea. Miguel, our usual waiter, knows us and arrives at our table, drinks in hand. “Hola, ladies!Cómo estás? You have your usual?”

AzzyJo grins. “You know us too well, Miguel. Tonight, we’ll have some friends joining us though.”

“Muy bien. I’ll be back to take their orders when they arrive.”

Azalea wastes no time getting down to business and pulls a notepad and pen out of her oversized tote bag. “Okay. So, do youhave an idea of how many people you’ll want to invite to your shower?”

“I’m really not sure.”

“Do you know where you want to have it?”

“I don’t—” I’m saved from her line of questioning when Simon drops down into the chair on the far side of Azalea.

“Good evenin’, ladies. What are we gossiping about?”

“We are not gossiping, Simon McAllister. We are plannin’ Myla’s baby shower.” Azalea cuts her eyes at him.

Unfazed, Simon just smiles. “Oh, yeah? You gonna invite me, Myla Rose?”

“Ooh. Good question—do you want to invite the guys?” she asks.

“Do guys enjoy that sort of thing?” I can’t imagine it’d be much fun for them, with all the silly games and whatnot.

“We just want to be there for you, Myles. I know Drake will agree.”