"Do you want to come for dinner again?" he asked. "Thanksgiving turkey with fixings."
That was an entire week away. Could I stand to be away from Jamal for that long?
"Wouldn't miss it," I answered. "Let me know if I can bring anything." We typically had Thanksgiving dinner at Owen's each year. I was going to be ditching the guys.
"No need. There will be enough food to feed an army already. Just bring yourself."
I smirked and winked at him like an idiot. "That I can do."
Again, we couldn't take our attention off one another; lost in each other's eyes, barely blinking. It felt as if we were bothutterly enthralled by our growing connection. Friendships weren't supposed to progress like this. And yet, despite our intention, I wouldn't dream of pulling away.
Jamal cleared his throat and looked down.
"Yeah," I muttered. I'm not sure why.
"I should get back to work," Jamal said. "The afterschool group will be arriving soon."
"Right. Okay." I rose from my seat. "I have errands to run before work."
Run?
Dammit.
Jamal wheeled back from the table. "Are you closing tonight?"
"Yeah, it'll be a late one."
Parting ways after that was awkward as we both contemplated whether a physical goodbye was warranted. Walking away after a brief hug, I was transported back to the night sitting on Jamal's bed when I'd held him. His muscular frame fit against mine perfectly.
Kissing his head had been impulsive but after placing my lips on him, I'd remained, inhaling the scent of his shampoo. He had leaned against me and clung to my arm.
I wanted more of that.
But did we dare cross that line again?
The squealing laughter and high-pitched chatter of my female friends had me laughing too. They were a kooky bunch, and I loved every single one of them. I'd known most for many years.
Karen, unfortunately named, was the ringleader, and the woman I had known the longest. I'd met her at university. We'd created sexual mayhem in our time there. Karen had been as much a playboy as I was. Playgirlin her case. We'd made a game of competing for the same men. Now, she was happilymarried with three children, but she was still an absolute spitfire.
Cindy, a cute little thing; five foot nothing was the purse for most of our antics. She and her husband existed in wealth. She'd be a perfect candidate forHousewives of Vancouver Islandif such a show existed. She lived a childless life of wine, relaxation, and luxury.
Mia was the voice of reason for the group, keeping the reins in place for what was sometimes a runaway party. She was the one who made sure the rest of us arrived home safely. She was a registered nurse, worked hard at her job, and was a single mom of two adorable boys.
Emily was new to the group. She had moved to Victoria from Quebec City a year ago. She had the cutest accent when she spoke English and reverted to French when she was drunk. She was single. Her dating record was much like Owen's. Disaster after agonizing disaster.
The champagne was flowing in the limousine. I was drinking sparkling water. No one had given me a moment of grief when I told them I was sober. In fact, they'd congratulated me.
We pulled up outside the gay bar we were invading tonight. Unlike the general population, we'd been allowed to make a reservation. Our table would be a moneymaker.
Once seated, Karen commanded the ordering when the server came over.
"Two bottles of your best bubbly, four glasses, one sparkling water … and we're starving. Two of every appetizer on the menu should do us to start."
"My treat," Cindy said, waving her hands around, once the server left. I'd have to pick through what Karen had ordered, but I should be able to find enough to ease my evening hunger.
"Well … hello, dolls." Charlie—Charlotte squeezed in beside me. "Girl's night?"
"Liam said you were hosting and performing tonight," Mia said. "Couldn't miss it."
