In a Jam (Friendship, RI Book 1)

by Kate Canterbary

“Good news for you though.” “And what would that be?” “I’m getting off your couch for good.” “And where will you be going, doll?” I drained the contents of my glass. “I’m moving to Rhode Island tomorrow.” She flopped back against the cushions. “This is it, isn’t it?” “What?” “The start of your villain era,” she said. “The ‘no fucks given, ask me if I care, throw out your whole life and start over just because you feel like it’ era.” I thought about that for a second. It was true, I didn’t have any fucks left.

“I know it’s insane to ask this but if you can go along with me for five minutes, I will personally plow and plant your fields whenever you want it. Okay?” I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. Not when those words went in one ear and landed right between my legs. “Just follow my lead,” he whispered. “Please.” I had no idea what was happening but Noah was so close and he was holding me so tight that it didn’t matter. And that please had rumbled over his lips in the very best way, like an apology begged a moment before sinning.

Noah held the door open for me, saying, “Last chance to change your mind.” “Hardly. There are at least ten more opportunities to run out of here like my pants are on fire. This is just the first of the final chances.” “Not sure if that’s supposed to reassure me”—he shifted his hand to the exposed skin where the romper cut out, his fingers sliding beneath the fabric—“or make me hold on tighter.” This guy really needed to stop with all these comments. I was not built to withstand such things, especially not while our marriage was very fake and my attraction to him was becoming very real.

“You’d manage just fine. And before you can argue, may I point out all the businesses you’ve opened without me? You built a market from your parents’ old house, a bakeshop from another old house, a cannery from an abandoned cider mill, and an ice cream stand from god only knows what. And you spiced it all up with some goats and yoga. Don’t pretend that you need me for this.” “Just because I can plow through by myself doesn’t mean I want to,” I said. “Fuck, Shay. Let me need you, okay?” A quiet minute passed before she whispered, “Okay.”

I felt like I’d been waiting a very long time for someone who knew how to shatter me and also wanted to pick up all the pieces.