Once Upon a Sure Thing (Page 29)

Was I cold for putting my foot down about dinner?

Or was I wise?

I sigh as I take a sip of my tea, wishing for answers, wishing I knew where to even look for them.

But I don’t, because I don’t have a knitting pattern to follow with him. We’re not dating, but we are screwing around, and it’s only temporary, and yet we’re still friends. I wish I’d been able to give him a yes to something as simple as joining us for dinner. The last few times I tried to integrate men I dated with my family, it didn’t pan out. Miller’s different, of course. But what does it mean that this man who’s played a key role in Chloe’s life for several years is now also the man I’m enjoying benefits with?

Temporary benefits.

“Would that even work?” Hailey’s question interrupts my reverie. “Would it be possible for somebody who sings soprano to hit those low notes?”

We’re back to the topic of Girls Rule, as Hailey lays out the scenario the lead singer faced in a recent episode. I weigh in with my musical opinion, then the girls ask if they can order mango sticky rice for dessert.

“Since the first semester is almost over and I’ve done well in school,” Chloe says, making her case.

“Me too. It can be like a reward,” Hailey adds, and they’re like two puppies, vying for an extra scoop of kibble.

“Let’s do it.”

After we finish the sweet rice and I pay, Hailey grabs her phone to text her mom, while Chloe rests her head on my shoulder. “Thanks so much for doing this, Ally. I had a really fun time.”

A neon light flashes brightly in my brain. Ally. She called me Ally for the first time. I blink, my mind tripping back to earlier at dinner. She called me Ally then too, didn’t she?

I sit straighter, a question poised on the tip of my tongue.

But Hailey looks up from her phone. “Can you sleep over tomorrow? I just asked my mom, and she said it’s fine with her.”

Chloe’s eyes plead with me from behind her glasses. “We have a half day, and then winter break starts. Can I, Ally?”

Third time. I beam. I don’t know why it feels like I’ve graduated to the next level, but it does, and I’ll take it. I’ll happily take it. “Absolutely.”

While we walk Hailey back to her apartment, I’m on cloud nine, and I want to share the news with Miller.

Later that night when Chloe’s asleep, I text him, but there’s something else I need to say first.

Ally: I missed you at dinner, but I’m not sure how to balance everything now.

Miller: *gif of juggler with ten pins in the air*

Ally: Seriously though . . . I should have invited you, but I’m trying to figure out how to make everything fit.

Miller: *gif of cat sliding under a bureau*

Miller: It’s all good. I NEVER want to pressure you when it comes to Chloe. I was just starving. You know me and my appetite.

Ally: Yes, I do.

Miller: But I do understand that the juggling is real for you. And that you have to do what makes sense.

A familiar feeling rushes over me. It’s how I felt the other night when I saw Miller carrying Chloe. It’s the feeling of falling. He understands, and he’s so good to both of us.

Ally: So I’m forgiven?

Miller: That would imply you did something bad. Were you a bad girl, Ally? Oh wait, you were naughty. Please do more naughty things.

And we’re good, so good, so I move on.

Ally: Want to send me the words and music for your new song?

Miller: Check your email. ☺

Ally: I see it! Also, I’m no longer Aunt Ally.

Miller: WHAT???? Are you OK?

Ally: Gah! Didn’t mean to freak you out! It’s all good. She doesn’t call me Aunt Ally anymore. It started tonight. Apparently, I’m just Ally now!

Miller: That is completely awesome!

I sink back onto my couch, open the email from him, and dive into the song, singing softly to get the feel for his new tune. Once I have the basics down, I grab my knitting bag and work on Sam’s hat, still humming. As I work the row, I decide that I’m doing okay with Chloe, despite having to figure things out on the fly.

Maybe I deserve a reward too.

Even if I don’t know right now how to knit Miller, Chloe, and me into any sort of pattern that makes sense, I know one thing: I want to see him again, and I’ve been given a golden chance.

Ally: Chloe is sleeping at a friend’s house tomorrow night. Would you like to spend the night with me?

His response arrives faster than any message I’ve received in my life.

Miller: *gif of nerdy dude in glasses pumping his fist and shouting YES*

As I finish the hat, I decide maybe we can manage it all—Hot Stuff, and friendship, and benefits.

After all, what could possibly go wrong?

Chapter 24

Ally

I suck.

I flub so many lines I’m ready to send myself back to high school. I have factions of robots waiting to take over a zombie-infested school in the not-so-distant future, but the last few chapters of the sports-radio teen star story are killing me.

“Can’t win ’em all,” Kristy says with a shrug when I mispronounce horrors as whores.

I bang my forehead on the desk. “That word is a horror,” I mumble into the mic.

“Could be worse.” Kristy’s voice booms in my headset. “The author could have used peculiarly.”

Raising my face, I clutch my cheeks and gasp, like I’m screaming in a slasher flick. “Never peculiarly,” I say, since that’s cruel and unusual punishment to a hard-working voice artist.

I take a deep breath, count to three, clear my mind, and then return to the final chapter, giving my all to the character as she comes to terms with being a girl who loves sports radio in love with a boy who wants nothing to do with a ball, a field, or a racket.

With laser focus, I nail the ending.

It’s two hours later than I expected though, which knocks me off schedule for starting the undead tale. Plus, Miller’s going to be here any minute, and we’re supposed to rehearse.

I check my phone for any change in plans, and an email message blinks at me.

Extra pickups needed for the Casey Stern book. Sorry! But we want to wrap it up before the holiday break.

It’s Angie at Butler Press, and I call her back. “Hey, I’m at my regular studio. Can I do them here?”

She pauses before answering, and that’s a clear no. “Well, if there’s any chance you can just scoot up here, we’d prefer it. We really want the same sound environment.”

What the client wants, the client gets. “I’m on my way. See you in thirty.”

I wave goodbye to Kristy, call a Lyft, and ring Miller on my way down the stairs.

“What’s a five-letter word for where I plan to spend the rest of the night?” he says as he answers.

A laugh bursts from my chest. “I have no idea. Couch?”

“Nope. Inside you.”

I count off. “Miller,” I say, deadpan. “That’s nine letters plus a space.”

“Oh, excuse me. I meant p-u-s-s-y.”

My jaw drops. “You’re filthy.”

In an ever-so-innocent voice, he says, “I spelled it out.”

“Oh, well, then you’re a cupcake.”

“I’d like to eat you like a cupcake.”

I laugh, since I don’t think I’m going to be able to call up the serious side of my friend right now. “I have to head to Butler Press for an hour. I’m going to be late for rehearsal.”