Moore To Love by Faith Andrews Page B

Detail.”
    I scarf down the water, practically choking it down because of the way my best friend is eyeing me. When I’m done, she grabs the cup from my hand, slams it down on the swivel table and then rolls it out of the way. “ Un parched?”
    “Yeah.” I nod.
    “Speak.”
    For fear of losing a limb, I blabber on about everything that unfolded over the last few hours. I can’t help but smile each time my lips speak his name. Like anything else in my life, however, I vow not to get my hopes up about any of it. Besides, I’ve been avoiding anything with Hudson all this time for the greater good. Me. I need to do me before I can do anyone else.
    “And that’s it in a nutshell,” I finish with a drawn-out sigh.
    Tatum’s eyes flicker with enjoyment; her lips curl with glee. “Well, that’s quite a large nutshell. He totally digs you, you know that right?”
    “I know nothing of the sort.”
    She tsks away my negativity and gets serious. “You said he’s coming back to visit with you when he’s on his break?”
    “Yup.”
    “He stayed with you until you were conscious?”
    “Mmm hmm.”
    “He didn’t lose his lunch when you lost yours all over his shoes?”
    “Nope.”
    “And he called you beautiful and intimidating?”
    “Uh huh.”
    Tatum leans over the length of my body and grabs my shoulders, shaking me. “Leni! Wake the fuck up! All this time you’ve been avoiding Mr. Fancy Pants and he’s been pining over you! You, my friend, are on a roll, and I think it’s time you accept it!”
    Pushing her off me, I wince at the wave of dizziness her shaking caused. “Wanna watch it? Head injury here,” I bark.
    “Oops! Sorry. But really, Len. Think about it.”
    She has a point. I have to hand it to her. Ever since Hudson, I’ve been riding this wave of male attention that’s nothing short of fantastic. That being said, I could never allow something so trivial to get to my head. I’m not that person. Never was. And no amount of weight loss will ever make me be.
    “I don’t know,” I muse.
    “What’s not to know? You’ve wanted this for as long as I’ve known you—the attention of a hot guy who actually seems to like you for yourself. Why can’t you embrace it and see where it goes?”
    It seems easy enough. In fact, I’m half convinced it’s time to pull up my Hanes Her Way and be a big girl, but reluctance rules my roost. Uncertainty undulates my utopia. I’m a chicken unwilling to crash land from the coop.
    “We’ll see,” I finally concede, sinking my head into the not-so-plush hospital pillow. “Who do you have to blow for a decent pillow around here? Can you text my mom to bring me a better one? I’ll never get through the night with this.”
    With a disappointed frown, Tatum rises from her seat on the bed and comes over to fluff the lifeless pillow. “I have a feeling that’s not the only reason you won’t be able to sleep comfortably tonight,” she murmurs.
    “What was that?” I should ignore her stubborn persistence, but I’m not one to allow someone else the last word.
    Dancing around the room like a fool, Tatum clutches her heart dramatically. “Oh, Lane! I love your fancy pants. Can I take them off for you?” She smacks her lips and makes kissy noises as she moans and groans his name.
    I snatch the useless pillow from behind my head and fling it at her. “Would you stop? You’re so freaking immature! Enough already!”
    Tatum deflects the pillow and continues tormenting me. “Lane, my hero. You saved me from that big bad tree Now, show me your big bad co—”
    “Knock, knock.” Tatum freezes and me? I’m on fire. I imagine I turn a shade of red that’s not even on the color wheel. “I can come back if I’m interrupting something . . .”
    Okay. I just died. I need to be dead, buried, gone. “Um . . . come on in, Lane .” I accentuate his name and give Tatum a death stare that makes the beautiful palette of colors drain from her perfectly made up face.