AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“So you’re not going to stop me when I wanna get my rocks off,” I say. “Just like I’ve never stopped you.”
“You’re right, Ang. I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”
“Maybe your protective Papa Bear mode kicked in or something.” That makes him smile. “You just played a blood-thirsty sport all day; your hindbrain has clearly taken over and you’ve now resorted to baser urges.”
“Is that your professional diagnosis?” He grins.
“It is. Now can we please go to the social? I heard there's a barbecue and you need to feed your pregnant friend.”
“I thought you said meat was making you sick lately?”
“It is,” I confirm, as a little wave of nausea rolls in at the mere thought. “But where’s there’s barbecue, there’s fixin’s—and I plan on scarfing down some potato salad.”
Finally, he shows me his pearly whites. “Let’s get you some fixin’s then.”
Chapter 8
June 25th
Angie
Cora texted me around lunch time asking if I wanted to have happy hour with her after work today. I know we’ve both been getting creative with mocktails recently, so I texted back immediately confirming the plans.
Even though it’s Tuesday, Raf didn’t have practice tonight, so he’s heading over to his historic fixer-upper to tear up stuff. Floors, maybe? Walls? I forget. That’s another ridiculous symptom I’ve been experiencing: memory loss. Sure, it was minor at first, like forgetting to put mascara on after a full face of makeup and only realizing when I looked in the mirror at work. But then it got worse. Like forgetting where I’m driving. Which is why I’m thirty minutes late to Cora’s place in Rittenhouse. Her gorgeous, historic home that should honestly be featured in magazines.
I love coming here.
“Sorry I’m late,” I sing as I barge through her front door.
The Lumineers1 are playing softly from the speaker perched on one of her built-in bookcases. “Pregnancy brain had me take a different route.”
“You do that too?” Cora asks, standing up from the white couch in her front sitting room and giving me a hug.
“Yes. Don’t tell Raf, though. He already hates my car, and if he finds out I’m sure he’ll make me get rid of her and make me get something with a nav system.”
Cora gives a dignified snort. “Your car is barely holding on, so I’m with him.”
“Shh,” I tell her, looking over my shoulder. “She might hear you.”
She heads to the kitchen before saying, “I’m making lime seltzer with a splash of pomegranate juice. Want one?”
I follow her. “You’re so good to me, queen.”
“How’s work going?” she asks, pulling the ingredients out from the fridge.
I lean against her white marble countertop. “Oh, you mean besides being the hardest thing ever because it’s impossible to stay awake?”
“Oh god, you too?” she asks, dispensing some ice into the glasses. “I don’t know how we’re expected to function in any capacity at work whilst growing a human. Jay’s been secretly letting me sleep in his office every day.”
“All I want to do is sleep,” I whine. “But I did have an interesting session today with an eleven-year-old.”
“Oh?”
“Their mom has been incarcerated for almost a year now and they miss her terribly. They said listening to Fancy by Iggy Azalea makes them happy because it reminds them of her.”
Cora pours the pomegranate juice over the lime seltzer and ice. “That song seems a little mature for someone their age.”
“That’s what I said,” I smile. “But they said their mom would blast it and they’d dance and sing along.”
