Secretly More Read Free

on.”
    “That’s what kittens do.”
    “Whatevs. I’ll be glad to be rid of him. And now that he’s gone, you can finally concentrate on going back to school, getting your business degree, and opening your own bar like you’ve wanted,” Ferney said. “I hope you’re still planning on calling it Ferney’s.”
    “Totally,” Kimber said, deadpan. “You know what a brilliant idea I think that is.” She slanted her sister a look. “While we’re on the subject of the future, you will be helping me move tomorrow, right?”
    “Of course.” Ferney made a face. “I’m offended you’d even question me. The one you should doubt is useless Dane. Is he going to come through for you? That’s the real mystery—and one I probably know the answer to, if his track record is any indication.”
    “You’re a real Nancy Drew.” Kimber took a gulp of wine, trying to calm the nerves that had suddenly frazzled at the reminder of her boyfriend’s undependability.
    Ferney slapped her palm on the tabletop. “I think tomorrow should be the final test. If he doesn’t show up to help you lug your shit into the place you should’ve been sharing, he’s history. If he shows up, great. Then I’ll think of more tests he’s likely to fail.”
    Paul rested his hands on Ferney’s shoulders and gave them a squeeze. “What your sister’s trying to say is that she’ll miss you.”
    “No, what I’m trying to say is I hate Dane. He’s twenty-four and he acts like he’s still in college. He doesn’t know what to do with a real woman.” Ferney’s head lolled forward and she gave a groan, the veil of her straight-ironed white-blonde hair hiding her face. “Keep rubbing. I think your thumb’s on a knot.”
    Kimber’s cell phone sounded in her purse, and she swilled the last of the merlot and hurried to her room, her heart turning over at the sight of Dane’s name on the display screen. She both craved and dreaded his calls; they usually went exceptionally well or exceptionally bad, with no in-between option. Most often they were both.
    She flipped on the light, illuminating nearly empty room with stacks of filled cardboard boxes, and answered the phone. “Hello?”
    “Hey, bables.” His voice, as always, sounded vaguely amused and slightly stoned. “What’re you up to?”
    “I just got home from work.” She sat on the edge of her mattress resting on the hardwood floor; pieces of the bed’s headboard and frame leaned against one of the bare walls in the corner. “What about you?”
    “Just hanging out, wondering when I’ll get to see you again.” She pictured his wiry form sprawled across a couch, clad in the classic Dane uniform—khaki shorts and a Grateful Dead tee over a long-sleeved shirt—and his long, wavy brown hair tied back.
    She pulled her knees to her chin. “Why not tonight?”
    “I wish I could. But Sam’s car is blocking mine in and she’s not home to move it.”
    “Oh.” Pain and anger constricted her heart, and she fought against the wave of uncontrollable jealousy threatening to run rampant. How was it that rotten twists of fate always managed to keep Dane and her from seeing each other or even getting along? There was always some barricade to overcome, and most of the time Kimber didn’t know if they actually overcame the obstacles or just ignored them.
    “You could come over here, if you want.” He gave a heavy sigh. “I understand if you’d be uncomfortable doing that though.”
    Uncomfortable was not the word to describe how agonizing she imagined visiting his new place would be, all the while knowing it wasn’t supposed to be like this. “I shouldn’t,” she said finally. “I still have a lot of packing to do.”
    “Ah. All right.” She heard him light a cigarette and take a drag. “So what time am I helping you move tomorrow?”
    “How about nine?” She willed back the tears she knew loomed in the very near future. “Ferney wants to cook us all what she’s calling a