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I haven’t had this much to drink since my college days.
“Did you pay her?” Brooklyn demands. “We agreed that I’d pay.”
“He tipped me,” the bartender tells her and winks at me. “Which means you still owe me twenty bucks.”
Brooklyn hands over the cash, then grabs her artwork and my hand before we resume the epic journey to the Bridge of Lions.
“Do you think men and women can be friends?” Brooklyn asks out of nowhere, just as we step on said bridge.
Is this about the kiss? Is she preparing to tell me she wants me in the friend zone? Unless… “Is that a When Harry met Sally reference?”
She squeezes my hand teasingly. “Perhaps.”
“Well, what do you think?”
She shrugs. “My besties are both women, but I think, in theory at least, it’s possible.”
“If we’re talking platonic friends, I think I could be that with some women,” I say. “But if I find a woman extremely attractive, being just friends would be difficult.” Like in this case. Then again, she won’t be in Florida long enough to need me even as a friend.
“Yeah. I think if I found the guy attractive, I’d have trouble with platonic-ness too.”
My lips quirk. “I don’t think ‘platonic-ness’ is a word, but if it were, it would be sixteen points.”
“Are you angling for that Scrabble rematch?”
I narrow my eyes at her. “I don’t need to angle. You agreed. A deal is a deal.”
“Why are you so eager to lose again?” She takes a selfie with papier-mâché Evan.
“I won’t lose.” At least I hope not.
“Is that Boone?” Brooklyn asks, pointing at a beat-up Oldsmobile Aurora pulling up to the curb.
“Yep.” And I hope that car survives the trip home.
The good news is that Bonnie is with Boone, which means I have no choice but to sit next to Brooklyn in the back. To that end, I get the door for her.
“Thank you.” She bats her long eyelashes at me before climbing inside. “It will be a shame to defeat such a gentleman.”
“What are you defeating him in, hon?” Bonnie asks with her signature drawl.
“Scrabble,” Brooklyn answers.
“Oh. Boone and I have been fixin' to play that game,” Bonnie says and flashes the gap where she recently lost a tooth in an attempt to milk one of Calvin’s pet cows.
“How about we play using the app?” I suggest.
Bonnie is excited, but Brooklyn seems dubious.
As soon as we start playing, I regret it. The screen is blurry, and looking at the app is making me carsick. At least that’s my story—a big, strong guy like me wouldn’t feel woozy from a little alcohol. No way.
By the time we enter my community, Bonnie has beaten us both and claps her hands in glee. “Well, I do declare. Did y'all think just because I’m this hot, I’m stupid?”
“I’m not sure about Brooklyn,” I say. “But I think we’ll have to have a rematch when everyone involved is sober.” And I’m not admitting that I’m not.
“You never accept a loss, do you?” Is it the alcohol, or does Brooklyn always have that much snark in her tone? “Speaking of, if Bonnie hadn’t won, I would have.”
“That’s not true,” I say, though I wouldn’t bet my life on it.
