Space (Laws of Physics #2)(44)

I wasn’t.

Don’t look at me with those judgy eyes!

“Sorry if my hand was sweaty,” Kaitlyn said, smiling at us both with her adorable smile. “I’m really nervous. I’ve wanted to meet you for a while. Can I just say, I really appreciated the testimony you gave in front of Congress this last summer. I was glued to my TV. I feel like what you did made a difference, you seem to have swayed public opinion, and I hope it means things will start moving in the right direction.”

I blinked at her, feeling inadequate and tongue-tied and jealous. SO JEALOUS. But rather than continue to scowl, especially since she was being so nice, I worked to keep my face emotionless. This was no easy task considering the direction of my thoughts.

They probably kiss. All the time. They’ve probably kissed today.

Stop it! You don’t even know if they’re dating.

Are you kidding? I would date her in a heartbeat. She’s stunning and her voice reminds me of how honey tastes.

I blinked, sitting up straighter . . . where did that thought come from?

Given all this, I was having trouble pulling a response out of my brain that was anything close to situationally appropriate. I absolutely could not say anything like, Did you kiss Abram today? How long have you two been together? Does he talk about me? Are you two getting married?

On that pleasant note, my eyes lowered to her self-professed sweaty hands and that’s when I saw it. A ring. But not just any ring. A beautiful, tasteful, HUGE light-blue sapphire engagement ring.

“So, it has come to this,” I murmured unthinkingly.

“Pardon me?” The obvious confusion in Kaitlyn’s voice forced my eyes back to hers.

“Uh, I mean—” And thus, I die. “Um, congratulations.” . . . on your engagement to the man I’m obsessed with. And then the wolves came. She blinked at me, still confused. I indicated with my chin to her ring finger. “That’s a gorgeous engagement ring. A sapphire?” In this economy?

“Oh! Thank you.” She smiled down at the ring, her eyes turning hazy. But instead of lifting it for me to look at—which is what most women, in my experience, seemed to do—she pulled it closer to herself, like it was precious. “It’s an aquamarine.”

I nodded, my voice coming out weak as I said with a light chuckle, “As the prophesy foretold.” Because I was a dork and I didn’t know how to speak people. Specifically, I didn’t know how to speak to the person who was going to marry Abram. My Abram.

MINE!

A surge of possessiveness, such that I was unable to breathe or focus for a few seconds, held me in its grip. It choked me, I was dizzy with it, and I regretted not taking that Bruce guy up on his offer of cocktails. That’ll teach me to turn down cocktails.

I was only half paying attention when, with a dreamy quality to her voice, Allyn said, “It’s so lovely. Aquamarine is a unique choice for an engagement ring, what made you pick it?”

“There’s a reason, but it’ll sound cheesy.” Kaitlyn grinned at Allyn, and then at me.

“Cheesy? What? No! Pshaw!” I forced a grin along with cheerfulness into my voice, but there must’ve been something wrong with my face because Allyn’s smile fell, her eyes widened, and she was looking at me like my head had been replaced with the genitalia of an animal.

Because, let’s face it, genitalia—all genitalia, no matter the animal—range from distressing to disturbing to horrifying. Human vaginas look like sea creatures that slurp their food—and probably regurgitate half of it—and penises are startling, no matter the situation. If someone made a horror movie entitled, Dick Pics and just showed various dick pics? It would be the scariest, most distressing movie ever made.

The only species that does reproductive systems visually right are angiosperms (flowering plants). When you’re smelling a flower, you’re basically smelling a dick. Let that sink in.

“Uh . . .” Kaitlyn blinked at me, her smile wavering, her expression also wavering between perplexed and terrified at my expression.

What could I do? Usually, concealing my thoughts was my superpower, but Abram was my kryptonite. I couldn’t hide my emotions on the subject of his engagement. Randomly, selfishly, I didn’t want to. And besides, hadn’t that been Abram’s parting shot/advice?

Try being honest for once.

Honestly, I was (honestly) insanely jealous. Honestly.

I was just about to break things down for her—something like, Look, Kaitlyn. I’m INTENSELY in love-lust-infatuation with your fiancé. I know it would never work out between us, but I’d like to lock him away from the world in my basement, lick him nightly like an ice cream, and make him the second member of my two-person book club. I think maybe we can’t be friends—when Kaitlyn turned to Allyn.

She said, “The stone is the same color as my fiancé’s eyes. See? Cheesy.”

And I said, “Look, Kaitlyn—uh, what?” Now I blinked at her, sitting up straight. “What—what—what was that?”

Allyn shook her head at me. “Are you feeling okay?”

I ignored her, patting the table with my hand to get Kaitlyn’s attention. “Focus. The eyes? The eyes. What did you say about your fiancé’s eyes?”

“That they’re—uh—aquamarine?” Her gaze grew shifty, and she looked to Allyn as though seeking help with the cumbersome task of dealing with the crazy person sitting across from her.