Chapter 8: Tuesdays Are Always SlowI thought about that kiss for three days. The kiss that Pepper so casually laid on my cheek as Trixie was dragging her away from my front door. I’d never really had any friends who I would consider the kissy-kissy type—the kind who would grip you by the shoulders and say something like, “dah-ling, it seems like forever,” before swooping in to brush each cheek with their lips. As far as I knew that kind of thing only happened in old movies. And yet, here was Pepper, not gripping me by the shoulders, but swooping in just the same.
I thought about the hand holding too. That was easier for me to justify. Pepper and I were just a couple of friends out on a chilly night, it had been raining and we shared an umbrella, so of course we would be pressed up next to
