After We Fall (Take the Fall, #3)(43)

My mouth opens and closes as I flounder for an explanation. “We’re separated.”

“Oh, good,” she chirps. “Because I was totally judging you for being one of those types who takes a perfectly good single guy while she already has a man.”

A sort of strangled noise leaves my mouth.

“Kidding!” She winks at me. “Did I ever tell you about the time that I answered a personal ad and it turned out the guy was a professional cuddler? I had to pay him for hugging me good night.”

“That’s a thing?”

“A big thing, apparently.” She uses two fingers to pull a couple of cherries out of her glass and pops them in her mouth. “Reason number two hundred I suck at dating. If I could just find a guy who wanted to bypass all of that and get married, I’d be set.”

“You want to get married?”

Saylor gives me an odd look. “You don’t think I’m the marrying kind?”

And now I’ve hurt her feelings. “No,” I say slowly. “I thought you wanted to share all your cookies first.”

“Oh, no.” She shakes her head. “I’m saving all my cookies The One.”

“You believe in The One?”

“Don’t you?”

“I used to, but then I married a narcissist * who thought beating me up was a perfectly acceptable way of expressing his love.”

Her brown eyes round. “I’m sorry.”

“I can’t believe I just told you that. Exactly two other people know—Hunter and Piper.”

“Piper, as in our landlord’s wife?”

I nod. “Yeah, she’s also the owner of a women’s shelter.”

“Is that how you met?” Her voice is low and thankfully the music isn’t so loud that I have to speak up in order to be heard.

“Yes. Hunter, too. He was one of the cops who found me…on the side of the road and helped me.”

Saylor’s lips tremble. Then she launches herself at me, wrapping my body up in a hug so tight that I can barely breathe. “I’m so sorry that * hurt you. I hope they cut off his balls in prison and make him eat them. Also, Hunter is for sure your One. The other guy was an imposter.”

Awkwardly, I pat her back even as warmth washes over me. “I think that’s the nicest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Saylor lets go of me, her brown eyes filled with tears. “Sorry for bringing up your past.”

“Don’t be. Without my past, we would never have met.” While some may think that’s a rather morbid way to look at things, I’m tired of living in darkness, of being a perpetual victim who allows her husband to still control her. Darkness is only the absence of light and I refuse to keep living there. “You’re a really good friend.”

Saylor bites her lip, a shy smile on her face. “I’m honored to be your friend.”

“Okay, enough about friendship.” I catch a trio of guys looking our way. I’m not in the market, but I can make the best wingwoman ever for Saylor. “How about we let those guys talk to us?”

Saylor peers around me. “I’m okay with that.”

Apparently, they must have heard us or seen Saylor’s boobs, because the next thing I know, those guys join us at the bar. Automatically, I take a step back, but then Saylor does the sweetest thing ever.

She takes my hand and announces, “This is my very best friend, Evangeline, but she’s only interested in conversation.”

Only she doesn’t stop there.

“Plus, her boyfriend, the cop, is sitting in the corner with another cop.”

“He is?” I crane my neck, nearly giving myself whiplash, as I try to find him. “I didn’t see him come in. I didn’t even know he was going out tonight.”

“Conversation is good. I can maintain a six-foot distance at all times,” one of the guys quips.

I smile, even as I continue to look for Hunter. Why didn’t he bother to let me know he was here? Is he spying on me? Maybe he really didn’t mean what he said about going out, but he had been the one to suggest that I have a girls’ night out with Saylor.

Finally, the hostess moves from the middle of the bar, taking some patrons with her, and I catch a glimpse of Hunter.

He toasts me, lifting his glass of beer.

I hold up my glass of seltzer water.

Then he goes right back to talking to the man sitting across from him.

I gasp.

“What’s wrong?” Saylor asks.

“Hunter isn’t even coming over here.”

“Is he supposed to?”

“Well, we are surrounded.”

“Six feet of distance here,” that guy reminds us.

Saylor giggles. “I think I like him.”

“He’s your type for sure.” I frown. Doesn’t Hunter care that I’m surrounded by guys? I would care if he were surrounded by women.

“You know, the reason Hunter could be sitting over there instead of joining us is because it’s a girls’ night out and he wants you to have fun. And because he trusts you,” she adds.

Penn never trusted you, I reminded myself. Penn cut my friends out of my life so quickly that I can’t remember a girls’ night out. Yet, some stupid needy part of me craves a show of possession from Hunter.