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I keep my voice low when I answer. “I’m not lying. We slept together, but we didn’t have sex.”
She makes a scoffing sound. “I don’t see how that’s humanly possible. I’m not even into men, and even I can see how attractive those two are. Seriously. Have you seen them in a tuxedo?”
I hear her smirk through the phone speaker as I pace to the other end of the covered porch.
It’s my turn to scoff. “Try being up close and personal with those tuxedos.”
I’m still tingling.
With the clouds heading out, the sun peaks through, warming the incredible view. The waves are mesmerizing.
“Earth to Katherine.”
“I’m here.”
“One of them’s naked, aren’t they? You’re ogling hot billionaire booty right now. Admit it!”
Another laugh bubbles up my throat. “I hate to disappoint you, but I’m looking at the view.”
“Is that what we’re calling the meat and two veg these days?”
I literally choke on my laugh. “Shon. . . I can’t believe you said that.”
“Am I wrong?”
I flip the camera around and show her the backyard and ocean beyond. She’s silent for several seconds.
“Girl. You better keep that one.” I’m not sure if she means the house or the man. “And then keep the property in the divorce. Gorg!”
Ahh. She means Gabe.
It’s time to distract her from that line of thinking. Otherwise, she’ll have our wedding planned for June 7th, just like we always dreamed about when we were little girls.
“Gosh, it’s good to hear your voice.” I perch on the railing and lean back against the post. She’s the only call I’ve taken. Because she might not have grown up like me, but she grew up with me. One snail mail letter at a time. She gets it. She remembers my life before it started going sideways and then flipped upside down.
I miss seeing her every day. I miss her wacky notes on the mirrors, in the fridge, all over our apartment. Because of her, I own a hefty amount of 3M stock.
“Be true. How are you?” she asks in that I’ve-known-you-forever-and-love-you-like-a-sister way.
There’s no escaping her, not that I want to. But I do need to figure out my plan of attack. My phone has buzzed with notifications half a dozen times during our brief call.
The world will not be held at bay.
“Tired. Which is odd because I slept great.”
“I still can’t believe you slept with them but didn’t fuck them. Is Aunt Flo in town?”
I snort. “No.”
Pulling up my mental calendar, I count down the days until my monthly frenemy arrives. Five more days until I curl up on the couch and vegetate.
Shon makes a sound I’m familiar with. Thoughtful, curious. It’s her Detective Shon hum, and she only makes it when she has sleuthing to do.
“You can be straight with me. I know you have the libido of a rabbit.”
My cheeks flame.
She’s not shaming me, and I know she never would, but still. That admission over too much Chardonnay still haunts me a little. But I honestly wanted to know, and if you can’t ask your bestie how many times a day she Jills off, who can you ask?
