![]() ![]() She smiles softly, and I see the pity in her eyes. “Though I’d be pissed as hell if Trey had coffee with another woman, it could be worse.” “So what’s the problem? It was just coffee, right?” She pauses. “He asked, and I said yes.” I raise my eyes to hers. Saying how I need a friend or whatever and that I reeked of heartbreak.” I smirk, shaking my head at the memory. I shift my mug around, staring down at it. “The day before yesterday, I agreed to have coffee with Jared after our shift at the shelter.” The words rush out of me in a whisper. But the other part of me knows better, and Lola won’t judge-hopefully. A part of me thinks that maybe it’s not a big deal and I shouldn’t open myself up for judgment. I take a sip of my half-finished coffee, wondering if I should even say anything about it. ![]() ![]() ![]() “So”-she puts her mug down, rubbing her palms together-“what’s up? Your text had me worried.” “Oh, I knew I dubbed you my best friend for a reason.” She picks it up and takes a sip, closing her eyes and sighing contentedly as she visibly relaxes in her chair. Here”-I nudge her latte toward her-“I ordered for you.” They would probably wonder why I keep staring at them if they’d bothered to look away from one another. I drag my eyes from the old couple huddled in the corner of the café. “Hey, sorry I’m late,” Lola says, a little out of breath as she takes a seat across from me. ![]()
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