Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78108 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78108 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
They don’t. At all. Not for ten, twenty, thirty seconds. Not for a whole minute. Oh god. My friends think I’ve lost my mind. They’re staging an intervention. They’re—
Oh! FaceTime is calling. And it’s the girlies. All four of them.
I answer, but I fling my hand over my eyes, groaning in embarrassment. “Yes, you can come pick me up and whisk me away for a spa weekend to deprogram me after I’ve fallen this far.”
Hazel laughs, a bright sound with a touch of sarcasm. But that’s her natural tone. “Actually, we think it’s a good idea—”
“—Potentially,” Rachel cuts in as she swipes on powder in front of her mirror while getting ready for work.
“As long as you keep a few things in mind,” Elodie adds.
I perk up. I sit up. I stare at them. “You think I should do it?”
Elodie flips the closed sign to open in her chocolate shop in the city, the display shelves a gleaming white and the chocolates making me hungry for treats already. She furrows her brow and peers at the phone screen. “Is that a mirror above you?”
How can they see it? Oh, shit. My camera was flipped. I flip it back. “Yeah. It is. This house has mirrored bunk beds,” I say. “Pretty wild.”
Fable smirks. “So, is it wild, Juliet?” She asks as she walks along the street near the stadium.
Elodie clears her throat. “Exactly. Since that’s sort of the issue.”
“Mirrored bunk beds?” I ask, confused.
“No,” Hazel says dryly from the red couch in her apartment in Manhattan. It’s covered in books, papers, and planning notebooks, and her red hair is twisted in a messy bun. “The issue is your latent, simmering, long-standing attraction to Monroe.”
“What?” I ask, flinching in shock.
My sister cracks up. “Don’t act surprised.”
“That was real surprise,” I insist.
Rachel scoffs. “That seemed like Who, me? surprise.”
“I’m going to have to agree with Rachel,” Fable puts in.
I sigh. “It was real.”
Hazel’s bossy mode must be on high today. “Be that as it may,” she says, “you’re hot for him, and everyone knows it. Just be aware that any form of play dating might lead to temptation.”
I roll my eyes like that’s so ridiculous. But then my dirty brain pictures Monroe’s arms. His heated eyes. His stern attitude. And my skin heats up. “So, I should say no?”
Rachel jumps on the question. “Like Hazel said, we actually think it’s a good idea. Just that you should be cautious.”
Hold the hell on. “You four decided it was a good idea in the one minute before you called me?”
Fable nods firmly. “Of course we did. We look out for you.”
Elodie smiles sagely. “And we don’t fuck around with decisions for our girls.”
“Okay. Why is it a good idea?” I ask, a little giddy they’re truly on board, but I still want to hear their reasons. Validation of the purchase and all.
Rachel brushes on some eyeshadow as she answers. “He’s very savvy about relationships, thanks to his job. And I honestly think the guy’s viewpoint could be helpful. Like a secret sauce in a recipe.”
“Just don’t let him give you the secret sauce,” Elodie says with a naughty grin as she organizes some boxes of chocolates.
“It’s not going to happen,” I say, rolling my eyes just to prove how much I believe that. “We’ve been working together for a while, and if it were going to happen again, it would have. I’ve moved on. He’s moved on.”
“And that’s why we want you to be careful as you do this,” Rachel says. She’s evidently the voice of reason on this call. “You two work together, and I know the podcast is important to you.”
“And it’s not easy to fall for a guy you work with,” Hazel says with a knowing look because she would know. It happened to her. She’s now married to her writing partner, but it was a long and complicated road to her happily ever after.
“I’ll be careful, then,” I say, tugging the blanket closer, already picturing how this role-play dating scenario might work.
“Then use that man,” Elodie says, like she’s calling out ride ’em, cowboy at a rodeo. “Pick his big therapist brain. Ask him a bajillion questions.”
“And get all the insider tips you can get. It’s rare when we can ask a man what he thinks and know he’s telling the truth,” Fable adds as she turns into the stadium.
“But don’t go all bang me on the bunk bed because that could lead to getting your heart hurt,” Hazel warns, wagging a finger. “And this time, it might hurt for real.”
Last time it hurt, too, but I barely let on. To anyone.
Now though? Monroe’s even less available than he was that summer. Back then, I’d dated the man for seven days and had been about to tell my brother I’d fallen for his friend. I’d planned to tell Monroe, too, of course. I’d wanted to tell Monroe I’d wait for him, I’d do long distance, I’d try to make it work. Then he’d said, “This was always supposed to be a summer fling. Like we’d talked about. Right?”