I made a sound somewhere between a choke and a laugh. “Uh, since I saw her in that skirt?”

Noah nodded and touched his beer bottle to my glass. “Good answer.”

17. Sylvia

Seventeen

Sylvia

Meg dashed past the ladies’ room at the pace of an Olympic sprinter. “There could be people in there. Come in here.”

I felt myself being dragged into the catering office at the end of the hall. “Meg, what on earth?”

“We need to talk.” She shut the door, snapped on the overhead light, and turned to face me, her eyes gleaming. “What’s going on with you and Henry?”

“Um . . .”

“Don’t even bother lying to me. I can see that there’s a thing between you. You’re all over him.”

“What? I am not.”

She rolled her eyes. “Syl, you’ve practically been in his lap all night. And he’s been looking at you with that look in his eye.”

“What look?”

Her brows peaked. “The I’ve got ideas look. Now tell the truth.” She folded her arms. “Did you sleep with him?”

I sighed, giving up the pretense. “Yes.”

She squealed and clapped her hands. “Yay! Once?”

“Yes.” Then I grinned. “Once in the hallway, once in his bed, once in his bathtub, and once in his office.”

The smile slid off Meg’s face, her expression morphing from delight to shock. “Are you fucking kidding me? You’ve done it that many times since you’ve been home?”

“Well, most of that happened last Saturday night. But yeah, things did move kind of quickly.” I lifted my shoulders. “I’m a little scared how quickly, actually.”

“Why? He seems like such a great guy.”

“Because he is a great guy. Because I like him so much. Because if my life were different and not so fucked up, he’d be exactly the kind of guy I was looking for.” I swallowed hard. “I could fall for him so easily, Meg.”

“But your life isn’t fucked up anymore, Syl—that’s the beautiful thing.” She took me by the shoulders. “Don’t scare yourself out of giving him a chance.”

“I’m not, I swear.” I shook my head. “In fact, I’d probably be wise to be more cautious, not less. But I can’t seem to stay away from him.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“There’s this voice,” I blurted.

“Voice?”

“In my head,” I explained. “And it makes me doubt myself. It makes me feel like I can’t trust what I’m feeling.”

“Don’t listen to it,” she said, as if it were that easy.

“But—”

“But nothing. I know how unhappy you were last fall—how unhappy you’ve been for years. If the thought of being with Henry makes you happy, you should give him a chance.”

“It’s not just me I have to think about,” I reminded her. “I have two children.”