“What? And are you going to help me with this or did you just want to force free labor out of me?”
She sat at the table, pulled a pot closer to her, and started filling it with potting soil. “What did he mean?”
“What?” I knew what she meant, but if I pretended I didn’t, maybe she’d drop it.
“Dylan. When he said ‘that’s my line.’ What did he mean?”
“Hmm?” I shrugged and went to work on another pot. “Oh. Just he’s always reminding me to wear sunscreen since I work outside.”
No big deal. Friends did that sort of thing. Looked out for each other. And if Dylan looked out for me more than other friends I had? Still not a big deal. It was just who he was. He just didn’t want me to get burned since he’d have to listen to my grumpy ass bitching if I did. Made total sense.
“He really takes care of you, huh?”
He did. But I wasn’t going to admit it. “I guess.”