Free Sweet Forty-Two by Andrea Randall

okay.”
    I’m sure I had the same mortified look on my face as he’d had when I said the same thing to him just two days before, but he didn’t laugh. He winked and poured more coffee into his mug.
    He fucking winked.
    “Anyway,” I cleared my throat and gestured to the window with my hand, “what the hell is she doing?”
    “Sirsasana.” We all turned slowly toward Bo who was walking into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes.
    “What?” CJ sounded drunk on confusion.
    “Sirsasana,” Bo repeated. “A headstand.”
    “I’m going back to bed.” CJ set his mug on the counter and disappeared down the hallway.
    Momentarily ignoring that I had to leave soon, and my ride just went back to bed, I looked back out the window. “How ... long does she stay like that?”
    Bo reached above me, in all his shirtless glory, and took down a coffee mug. “Usually five or ten minutes, I guess. Probably a little longer today. She’s thinking.”
    “What’s going on with you two?” I sipped steaming coffee and watched Regan’s eyes widen. I pursed my lips at him. “Like you’re not wondering, too? They were a disaster last night.”
    Regan looked like he wanted out of there, fast.
    Bo stared out the window for a second, lightness coming into his face. “It’s okay, Regan. She’s right. We were off balance. Ember thought she was pregnant.”
    Regan and I formed a duet of choking on our coffee.
    “Precisely.” Bo chuckled. “Don’t say anything, though.”
    “Your secret’s safe with me, man.”
    Looking at Regan as he spoke, I was filled with the sensation that his words held exactly their weight.
    I shook my head. “You said thought , right? So what’s with the broody headstand?”
    Bo sighed. “It just freaked her out, is all. Not being ready for kids. We haven’t been back together that long, we’re not married...” He shrugged, but didn’t seem to buy his own spiel. Good Dad glittered in his eyes. That man wanted children, and I had a hunch he’d rock it. I hoped that Ember chick wouldn’t screw it up.
    “ Back together?” I hadn’t intended on being so nosey.
    Regan chuckled. “That’s not a story you want to hear at six in the morning. Trust me. I haven’t even pieced it all together.”
    “Funny.” Bo playfully punched Regan’s lean shoulder. “I’m heading out there to check how long she’s been like that. She loses track of time, sometimes.”
    “Godspeed, bro.” Regan mocked a military salute as Bo headed onto the sand to his Nature Valley girlfriend.
    As the door slid shut, I became hyperaware of my proximity to Regan, which was no longer necessary given we were the only two left in the kitchen. All I had to do was step to the right, just to get to the other side of the island. And, I couldn’t do it. Next defense? Sarcasm.
    “Going surfing?” I pointedly stared at his shorts, which, if I’m not mistaken, had slid down an extra inch when he’d retrieved his coffee mug from the cabinet. Though the coast was loaded with surfers, it was more densely populated with those who dressed as if they were.
    “Yep.” He rinsed out his mug and placed it in the dishwasher.
    “Seriously?” I let out a suspicious laugh.
    “Seriously.” Regan turned around and leaned against the counter, curling his hands around the edges. He was a little more tense and quiet than I’d have expected for someone who could do what he did with that violin on stage. Suddenly the lack of tattoos wasn’t a surprise.
    “Well ... be safe. I’m gonna go wake up CJ to take me to get my car.”
    “Yeah,” Regan drew out, “you know as well as I do that that’s not gonna happen. When he’s out. He’s out.”
    I knew he was right, but there was no way I was going to hang out in Barbie and Ken’s Bayside Bungalow all day.
    “I’ll take you. Let me get my shirt.” His triceps flexed as he pushed himself away from the counter.
    “No, that’s okay, you’ve got plans. Hanging ten and all of that.”
    Regan let