“It was the way she acted at the party, so I asked her the other day.” Brittany stood, slipping the lighter into the pocket of her jeans. My stomach tightened as I waited. She gripped the strap on her bag. “She told me nothing happened to her.”

Air stopped somewhere in my throat. “Do you believe her?”

She stepped back and then forward, lowering her voice. “She looked me straight in the eye and said nothing happened. I don’t know what to believe. How about you?”

“I don’t know, but you’re her friend, she would’ve told you.” I hoped that was the case. “Right?”

“I guess,” she replied, smiling tightly. “I’ve got to run before I’m late to history. Yay.”

“Hey.” I stood.

Brittany turned. “What?”

“You’re a good friend.”

She smiled as she dug a cigarette out of her bag. “I know.”

A certain edginess had me strung tight as I pulled the black sweater over my head and then went in search of my shoes. I couldn’t remember the last time I was this nervous, but it made sense. How many weeks—hell months—did it take for me to get Shortcake to say yes? I had a reason to be nervous.

I slipped out of the apartment before Ollie could make an appearance. My heart was pounding way too fast and my head was full of too much to deal with whatever smartass comments that would come from him.

When I knocked on Shortcake’s door, it opened almost immediately, and the nervousness turned into something completely different when I laid eyes on Avery.

The deep green blouse she wore mixed with the loveliness of her hair and complexion. Part of me couldn’t even believe I noticed that and was about to start waxing poetic verses in my head. The ever-present bracelet was in place. My gaze traveled down the skintight jeans tucked into black boots and then back up, straying where the soft red waves curled over her breasts.

I cleared my throat. “You look . . . really, really great.”

She ducked her chin as I stepped into her apartment. “Thank you. So do you.”

Grinning, I leaned against the back of her couch. “You ready? Got a jacket?”

Shortcake spun around, practically darting back down the hall. She returned with a black coat and started for the door. I picked up her purse and handed it over.

“Thank you.” Her cheeks flamed and then she breathlessly added, “Ready.”

“Not quite yet.” I stilled her, brushing the strands of hair back over her shoulders and then set about buttoning her jacket. “It’s freezing outside.”

Shortcake stared up at me as I continued up her coat, slipping the buttons into the holes. My knuckles grazed where her jacket swelled sweetly and she shuddered in a way that made me want to pull her close.

“Perfect,” I murmured, forcing myself to lower my hands. “Now we’re ready.”