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I sigh. “That’s not as convincing as I’d hoped.”
“To be honest, Lo, I’m gonna need a little more context before I know where to begin my chastity sermon.”
“A sermon—yes, that’s what I need. Or just talk to me like I’m one of your patients. Technically, I am, right?”
“Loren, what’s going on?”
I cringe. “Blake and I are only faking it. We haven’t actually been dating. It’s just a cover-up to make the pregnancy seem less scandalous.”
She’s quiet for a second. “But I thought you said you really liked him?”
“I do. That’s the problem. And even though I banned him from initiating any funny business when we made this agreement, he didn’t see fit to apply those rules to me.”
“Ah, I see. You’re afraid you’re about to take advantage of that loophole?”
“Yes. He’s so sexy that he literally made me weak in the knees just now. I mean, how am I supposed to combat that?”
She chuckles. “Sorry, my friend. I wish I could tell you he’s only after one thing, but I honestly think he’s just that into you.”
I whine.
“I don’t get it, though,” she continues. “You like him, he likes you, so why aren’t you together for real?”
I open my mouth to answer, but the words get caught. “It’s a long story,” I spit out. “I’ll fill you in later.”
“Fine. Then all I can say is that sleeping together before obviously left you both in a weird place. And, the whole miraculous conception aside, if you think you’re confused about your feelings now, just remember that acting on your attraction could change everything—again.”
“Yes. You’re right. Now give me the sermon.”
She laughs again. “That whole thing about sex being intended for marriage—huge fan. Ten out of ten, highly recommend.”
“Okay. Thanks for that.”
“Sure, but I think you already know what you should and shouldn’t do, right? You wouldn’t have called me to talk you off a ledge if you didn’t.”
Then I hear the outer door swinging open, followed by drunken laughter.
“Um, gotta go, but thanks again. Love you, bye,” I whisper over the sound of feet shuffling into the bathroom.
“I can’t believe you propositioned Blake Bourgeois and got turned down.” My ears perk up. “What exactly did you say?”
The second voice groans. “Some crap about it being fate that we were crowned together and that we should meet up in my hotel room to celebrate.”
I lean forward, peeking at the group of three women primping in front of the mirror. “At least he let me down gently,” continues the queen of the ball, readjusting her sash. “He told me he was flattered but only interested in spending the night with one woman.”
“That girl he brought as his date?” the third chimes in, wrinkling her nose in distaste.
“He actually called her his girlfriend, so things must be pretty serious. I heard she’s a teacher at the same high school where he coaches,” the queen says sarcastically as she wipes mascara from beneath her eyes.
“Are you sure he didn’t just say ‘she’s in school’? She looks more like a student than a teacher,” Thing One retorts. And though I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother me at all, it’s not the first time I’ve overheard a dig about my size or looking young. I’m hopeful it’ll start feeling more like a compliment in a few years.
Queenie laughs sardonically. “Judging by the way his eyes never left her, I doubt the hookup would have been worth it, anyway.”
The third one scoffs. “I don’t get it. The man’s hot as hell. He could have any woman he wants, married or not, and he passes on you for, what, that weirdo fromNew Girl?”
I guess that’s not the worst roast, either. Iambasically Jess on a good day. But they’re right—there’s only so long cute and quirky can hold the attention of a man like him.
“Yeah, I guess she’s attractive. But Blake deservessexy, and she’s just not?—”
