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“The only person you have to blame is yourself there,” Olivia added.
Isla, for whatever reason, thought it was a good idea to set her ex-boyfriend up by a local radio station to catch him cheating. Except the poor guy was as loyal as they come. The fall out was a disaster, and she and Harper had spent many nights helping Isla wipe up tears over margaritas and nachos.
It had been three years since that disastrous day, and Isla insisted she was over Nolan, but nobody believed her—especially since Isla hadn’t been on a single date since the breakup.
“We’re not talking about me,” Isla said. “We’re talking about Olivia and her problems.”
“You’re right,” Harper said. “We don’t have enough time to talk about your problems. We’d need at least a week.”
Isla’s head tilted feigning annoyance. “Says the girl who has had more dates in the last month than most people have in a year.”
Harper held her hands in front of her, a smile tugging at the corner of her glossed lips. “Hey, I’ll be the first to admit that I have a mile-long list of problems, but you’re right. This is about Liv.” Harper turned toward Olivia. “What do you think it is?” she asked. “I mean what could he possibly be hiding?”
Olivia shrugged.
“Why don’t you just ask him?” Isla suggested.
She’d thought about it, but she didn’t want to be pushy. “You don’t think that’s intrusive?”
“He had his penis inside you,” Harper said. “You can’t get more intrusive than that.”
Isla’s aquamarine eyes widened. “Are you getting more vulgar with age, or am I just aware of it more now?”
“Probably a combination of both. Then again, when you haven’t had sex in as long as you have, everything would sound vulgar.”
Isla let out a loud huff. “I’m sorry, unlike you I can’t spread my legs for anyone who is ready and willing.”
Harper smirked. By the tone in Isla’s voice, she was clearly joking. “Hey, I don’t spread my legs for just anyone. They have to buy me dinner first.”
Olivia choked on her drink. She missed this. She missed being with her best friends and listening to them trade jabs in good fun.
She cleared her throat and tried to steer the conversation back on track. “What do you think I should do?”
“Talk to him,” Harper said.
“Let it go,” Isla said at the same time.
“I should have known you two would be on totally opposite pages.”
Harper tossed her brown hair over her shoulder and took another bite of her pancakes. “Don’t listen to her. She hasn’t been with a guy in three years.”
Isla shot her a look. “And you’ve dated half the county, none of which have turned into long-term relationships.” Isla stuck her tongue out at Harper, and they both laughed.
“You should talk to him,” Harper reiterated. “Maybe he is holding something back, but he doesn’t know how to approach the subject. Asking him gives him the opening he might be looking for.”
“Or…” Isla held her hand up. “What if it’s something you don’t want to know, and you can never look at him the same way again?”
“What could he possibly tell me that I’d never look at him the same way again?” Olivia asked, more curious than anything since Isla was known to have a very colorful imagination.
“It could be anything. He believes he was abducted by aliens and is now controlled by them. Or he’s a serial killer who killed his way across the country.”
Isla definitely didn’t disappoint.
Harper’s fork halted before reaching her mouth. Her light brown eyebrow lifted, and she turned her gaze to Isla. “I would love to go in your head for one day just to see what the hell goes on in there.”
Isla shrugged. “You’d probably go crazy.”
Harper laughed. “You’re probably right.”
