“You might have thought it was, but I thought we were going to sightsee together.”
“We did. We went through the Highlands.”
“A portion, but there is so much more of Scotland, and Inverness is a day trip.”
“I didn’t know,” she says calmly, the steam quickly fading. “Isla was excited to show me around, and I didn’t want to say no. I was thrilled she even asked me, you know, since Isabella never wanted to take me anywhere. I’m sorry, Bonnie.”
Two words, that’s all it takes. Two words to break me down into a bubbling mess.
Tears well up in my eyes.
Throat constricts.
And then I’m a pile of emotions, sitting on the floor.
Dakota sits next to me and wraps her arm around my shoulder. “Hey, I didn’t know it meant that much to you. I really am sorry.”
“It’s not that.” I take a deep breath and consider telling her how I’ve been feeling lately.
Left out.
Forgotten.
Like I’m losing my best friend to someone else.
Like I’m no longer needed or important to my person.
But in the grand scheme of things, it seems so juvenile and not something that needs to drag down this moment. Dakota is here now, and we have a little more time before we truly have to go to bed. We should make the most of it.
“Then, what is it?”
“Stressed,” I answer. “I’ve just been really stressed lately, and not knowing where you were only added to that. I’m sorry if I embarrassed you.”
“No, you’re right, I should have texted. It was just a good day, and I got lost in the moment. But I don’t want to talk about that.” She pulls me to my feet. “Did you sleep over at Rowan’s again?”
I smile. “I did.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Dakota wiggles her eyebrows like a dork.
“I’m going to break the news to you right now—anytime I’m over at Rowan’s, you can count on us having sex. No need to wiggle your eyebrows.”
She chuckles and then yawns. “Figured as much. Hey, I’m super tired from the last two days. I think I’m going to head to bed, okay?”
“Oh . . . okay, sure,” I say, a little caught off guard.
“Was there something you wanted to talk to me about?” Dakota asks, sensing my hesitancy.
“No, I just thought we could catch up, but I get it.” I fake yawn. “Long day over here too.”
“Bonnie, we can catch up tomorrow, at the shop.”
“True. Doye.” I playfully hit my forehead, knowing for damn certain that I’ve never said the word doye out loud in my entire life. “Okay, then. I guess I’ll catch you on the flippity-flop.”
Dakota’s eyes narrow. “You’re being weird.”
“Too much sugar. You know how I get.” I twirl my finger next to my ear. “Crazy. Anyhoo.” I pat my stomach for some reason and then jab my thumb toward the stairs. “Guess I’ll be on my way.”
“Oh-kay,” she drags out, watching me moonwalk to the stairs. “Good night.”
“Good night.”
When I reach my bedroom, I fling myself onto my bed and stare up at the ceiling. What the hell was that?
For certain, it was the most awkward interaction I’ve ever had with Dakota, even worse than the time I thought I got my period when we were playing in her backyard and she hadn’t gotten hers yet, so I knew she wouldn’t understand the severity of not being prepared. What just happened was way worse than that.
With a sigh, I roll to my side and pick up my phone to set an alarm for my morning hairy coo walk. That’s when I catch a text from Rowan.
I quickly open it, ready to cling to anything that might possibly take away this heavy buildup that’s sitting on my lungs like a ten-ton weight.
Rowan: Hope you’re having fun with Dakota. Wanted to quickly say I was very impressed with you yesterday. Proud to call you me girl. Night, lass.
I press my lips together as they tremble. A single tear falls down the side of my face.
How did he know I needed that text more than anything right now?
Through blurred vision, I text him back.
Bonnie: Thank you, Rowan, that means a lot. Must be that one-sixteenth Scottish in me that makes me such a good baker, huh?
He texts back right away.
Rowan: Sorry to break it to you, lass. One sixteenth is barely a blip in the gene pool.
Bonnie: Don’t you belittle my heritage.
Rowan: Not belittling, just helping you understand, your one-sixteenth has nothing on this one hundred percenter.