Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
“You’re saying it’s bad?” Natasha asks.
I shake my head. “He has no business being so good in bed,” I say. “Maybe that’s why I said yes.”
We dissolve into laughter and another round of shots gets delivered to the table. It feels good to laugh. Every smile makes my dad feel a little further away.
“Now that I know how good the sex can be, I don’t want to go back,” I add. I hope memories of last night will fade, because if they don’t, I’ll never be able to settle for anything less.
“Does he have any single friends?” Sophia asks.
“I’m not sure Jamie would like you asking that question,” I reply.
She sighs. “Yeah, well, we’re on a break. We never see each other and it’s not like we’re working on changing things so we do. We’re in this weird limbo, which is fine if we were twenty, but I’m about to hit thirty.”
“God, Sophia, that’s shit,” I say. “But a break? What does that mean?”
“That we’re delaying the inevitable breakup, I suppose.” She nods and tips back her shot. She winces. “You’re right. It’s shit. And what’s worse, I can feel us both inching toward the exit and neither of us is trying to stop the other.”
I squeeze her hand. We’re going to need a lot of alcohol.
“You deserve someone amazing,” I say.
She nods. “You too.”
I don’t say anything and Natasha looks between us like she’s missing something.
“I don’t think men learn to fuck by talking about it in front of the game,” Natasha says out of nowhere. She adopts a deep voice, before going on to say, “‘Yo, dude, I discovered my girl’s G-spot last night. You gotta try this thing with a finger.’ So just because Leo is perfect, doesn’t mean his friends are. But it might be worth a try.”
Sophia and I both laugh at Natasha who’s clearly a little tipsy already.
I haven’t met Leo’s friends, but I’m guessing they don’t have conversations like that. I feel a pang of longing and wonder what he’s doing right now—whether he’s with his friends. I wonder what they’re like, whether I’ll like them as much as I like him, and whether they’ll like me.
“You’re probably right,” Sophia replies. “I just live in hope that I can find someone half decent in this town.” She turns to me, her expression serious. “I know that we’re joking around, but I’m honestly really happy for you.” Her voice breaks. “I’ll miss you, that’s all.”
I put my arm around her, my stomach tightening at the idea that I’m upsetting her for nothing because it’s all a lie. “Hey, I’m not emigrating. I’ll just be over the river and across the street.”
She nods, pasting on a fake smile that doesn’t quite hide the disappointment in her eyes. “Let’s have some fun tonight.” She pulls out her phone. “Let’s get a picture. You can send it to Leo to let him know you’re having fun.”
I hope the wince I feel isn’t translated into my expression in the photo. Leo and I have never texted unless it’s purposeful—directions to New River, timing for dinner, that kind of thing. I don’t know how I feel about sending him a text just because.
Natasha gets up and comes to stand on the other side of me, so I’m in the middle. Sophia holds out the phone, and before I know it, we’re striking poses and taking selfies like we’re seventeen again.
Sophia flips through the options. “This one is definitely the best.”
My phone bleeps immediately and I bring up the photo.
I look ridiculous in the fake bridal tiara. What the hell was I thinking?
“Send it to him. You look hot.”
I shake my head. “No, I’ll show him later,” I say.
“You have to send it!” Sophia says.
Natasha pulls the phone from my hand. “Why wouldn’t you send it? You look hot as fuck.”
“My point exactly,” Sophia says.
I glance up and they’re both looking at me. What do I do? If I refuse to send my fiancé a picture of me dressed up in a fake tiara, they’re going to think there’s something wrong with me. If I send it, Leo will think there’s something wrong with me. This is a lose-lose situation.
“Go on,” Sophia says.
I relent, bringing up my chat with Leo and dropping the picture before turning my phone facedown on the table.
We order another round of shots. Sophia tells us about her first post-Jamie date with a guy who’s an actor—not a famous one. He’s trying to “make it” and Sophia can’t decide whether he’s worth all the time she spends analyzing him. My vote is hard no, but I’m not going to say that at the moment. She’s still too into him. My phone vibrates and I feel it in my thighs. I know without checking that it’s Leo.
I wait until Sophia and Natasha are elbow-deep analyzing this new guy’s refusal to see Sophia more than once a week. If they were sleeping together, a once-a-week thing would mean he was trying to keep it casual, but they’re not having sex yet. Whatever game he’s playing, it’s not worth Sophia’s time. She needs to look for someone who cares about her. Someone who’s thoughtful.