Chapter SeventeenBrielle
By Sunday, I’ve recovered from my night with Hale and am headed to Kirby’s apartment. When I get there, he kisses me on the cheek and ushers me inside.
“I just need to catch the end of the game. You’re cool hanging out for a little bit, right?” His eyes stray to the television without waiting for my response.
“Of course,” I lie, even though I lined up an entire afternoon’s worth of appointments and if we’re late, it’s going to throw off the entire day.
We sink down onto the couch and Kirby squeezes my thigh. “Glad you’re here today. You’ve been busy lately.”
“Yes,” I say without expanding on what, or rather who was been keeping me occupied. I can never tell Kirby about Hale. He wouldn’t understand.
When the game goes to commercial, Kirby heads into the kitche
