She’s dressed as casually as one might expect for axe throwing—jeans, a navy blue fitted top, and burgundy Chucks. Yet her appearance makes as much of an impact on me as I’m sure it would if she were standing in the vestibule in a red-carpet gown. Long lines. Curves. Brown skin that looks soft and inviting. And that fucking hair. Curls and curls and curls, some of them artfully arranged around her face and parted to the side. I take a deep breath through my nose and let it out slowly, my hands itching to touch her even though I have no reason to. There’s a lightness in my chest now. As if Solange’s presence is enough to curb my unease about navigating this evening’s sham.

“Hey,” she says, her expression noticeably subdued. “Is anyone else here yet?”

“No, they all canceled.”

She tugs on her ear as she surveys her surroundings. “Good, good. That’s really good.”

Well, something’s certainly off. If there’s been a constant in my and Solange’s interactions, it’s that she always gives me her undivided attention. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

She whips her head around and looks up at me. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I was messing with you and just told you everyone canceled, and you said that was really good.”

“Sorry,” she says, lifting her gaze to the ceiling as if she’s frustrated with herself. “I got some unexpected news today, and I’m still absorbing it.”

I pull her over to a relatively quiet corner where there isn’t much foot traffic. “Is everything okay?” I can’t keep the concern out of my voice, but then I worry it’ll only worsen her own anxiety. Bending my knees to meet her gaze, I try to be supportive instead. “Is there anything I can do? If you need to bow out, I can hold the fort here.”

She draws back, then takes a fortifying breath. “It’s nothing, really. I’m being ridiculous, and there’s nothing for you to worry about. At all. Most well-adjusted people would even say it’s good news, so ignore me, okay?”

I take her hand and squeeze it. “That’s impossible, Solange. There’s no way I could ignore you.” Well, shit. That rolled off the tongue before I could stop it. “I mean . . . it’s obvious you’re preoccupied tonight.”

“I’m fine. Thanks for caring.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She shakes her head. “Not necessary. I’m still processing. But thanks for the offer.” The sparkle returns to her eyes. “Throwing an axe through the air is exactly what I need to help me get out of my brain. I’m looking forward to this.”

“I’m slowly warming to the idea.” I gesture with my chin to the play area. “I was watching while I waited, and it doesn’t seem all that hard.”