Page 11 of Lovers Like Us

Don’t smile at him. Don’t smile at him.“Thanks for that,” I say sarcastically, hand dripping in broken eggshell andyolk.

“Anytime.” He laughs, and I act quickly and wipe the runny egg onto his black V-neck, feeling the ridges of his six-packbeneath.

Farrow props his elbows on the sink and actually lets me use his shirt as a towel, even while he’s wearing the thing.Christ.

He’s a Grade A sexyasshole.

“Sorry for being late.” Jane crests the doorway in an out-of-breath pant, and our heads turn. She’s dressed in coffee-print grannie jammies. A binder tucked beneath herarmpit.

She sees Farrow. “Oh, you’re both here—” Her cat slippers slideon the slick hardwood, and she almost face-plants.

Binder drops to thefloor.

I sprint to reach my best friend, but by the time I catch her elbow, she already steadies herself with outstretchedarms.

My lips almost rise. “Bonsoir, ma moitié,” I whisper.Good evening, my otherhalf.

Her big blue eyes smile weakly up at me. I wait for her to sayit’s just you and me, old chap—or any kind of variation of that phrase. Just so I know we’realright.

We’re the same as we alwayswere.

Nothing’schanged.

She’s still Janie. I’m still Moffy. And we’re best friends until the bitter fuckingend.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she says and rubs her runny nose. Smothering her emotions. She picks up the binder. “This is for you. I need to talk with you about something important. Something I’ve already discussed with mybrothers.”

I’ve always been the first person she turns to and vice versa. With secrets, personal struggles,something important, anything—Jane Eleanor Cobalt is my numberone.

My ride-or-die.

But she talked to Beckett before me. And even Charlie. Though, I’m highly aware that someone is in my corner and currently in thiskitchen.

Farrow pulls his dirtied shirt over his head and then washes his hands. His earring sways as he shifts around the kitchen to cook eggs. And his protective gaze meets mine in astronghold.

He’s here for me. If I needhim.

It feels more thangood.

I know it’s no longer just me and Jane anymore, but I also don’t want the best parts of our friendship to change because of our otherrelationships.

I take the binder, and Jane lingers. I linger. Before the media blowout, we’d hug in greeting or I’d kiss both of her cheeks. Now, she hugs onto her arms, and I stand uncomfortablyrigid.

God, I hatethis.

“Tell me what you want to do,” Iwhisper.

“I will.” She nods assuredly and peels a piece of wavy hair off her freckled cheek. “That’s why we need totalk.”

“Alright.” I stretch my arm and head to the fridge. “Needanything?”

“No, I’m making coffee.” She’s already halfway to thepot.

I open the fridge and grab a Ziff sports drink. The label is aZwith the wordsAscendbeneath, a limeade flavor and a Fizzle product. The lake house is stocked with Fizz sodas, Lightning Bolt! energy drinks, and lots ofZiff.

I flip open a binder on the island counter and find blank white sheets of paper. “It’s allblank?”

Jane fills up a mug. “Since my handwriting is dreadfully hard to read, I thought you’d want to take somenotes.”