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“And how long has it been since you went out on a date?” she probes, turning the food and alcohol in my stomach into a mixture of concrete.
All I can do is stare at her, because it’s too embarrassing to admit the number of years aloud. Yes. Years.
“I’m not trying to get you worked up or upset, Ellie. You’re an incredibly smart, beautiful, badass, single mom, and anyone would be lucky to go out with you. I guess I’m just trying to tell you to keep your eyes open, okay? If you only feel friendship toward TD, that’s okay. I’d never want you to risk what you two have. But, if there’s a shot at something more, I really hope you take the time to truly consider it. Brody’s a senior in high school, and soon will be off living his own life. You’ll have a little more free time on your hands, and I’d love to see you finally put yourself first for a change and find someone of the opposite sex to do the same. Namely, orgasms, because by the way you ignored my question on dating, I’m guessing it’s been a while on those. Find a guy who makes your toes curl and your temperature rise with just a kiss. The naked part falls into place afterward, but if he’s not giving you at least two orgasms each and every time you’re together, he’s not worth it. Move on. There are plenty of dicks in the sea, as they say.”
A loud laugh flies and I cover my mouth with my hand. “No one says that!” I declare, hiding my blush behind my hands. All I can think about is the way TD made my toes curl with his kiss, and my brain tries to conjure up images of the two of us naked in bed, his body hovering over mine.
Something tells me TD would be a two orgasm kinda guy.
“Well, they should. It’s the truth.”
I shake my head and flick some rice around on my plate with my fork. “I hear what you’re saying,” I tell her.
“Good.” We resume eating our food, and after a minute of silence, she asks, “TD’d totally be a multiple orgasms giver, wouldn’t he.” It’s not a question, but a statement.
My face burns with embarrassment. “I don’t know,” I insist, making her laugh.
“He would,” she replies quietly. “It’s the policeman in him. Quiet, determined, and full of stamina. I bet he just takes control too. In bed, I mean. Not like one of those extreme Dom/sub things, but I’m thinking he knows what he wants and takes it. Don’t you think?”
My mouth hangs open. “Hallie!” I whisper-yell. “Stop it,” I bark out over a giggle.
“What? I might be a preschool teacher, but it’s not all rainbows and the ABCs in my head.” She gives me that devious grin, a naughty glint in her eyes.
“Well, since you’ve thought of it so much, maybe you should be the one to date him.” But the moment those words are out of my mouth, I wish I could take them back. The thought of Hallie and TD dating is enough to make my stomach queasy. Not because there’s anything wrong with either of them—in fact, I love them both to death—but I just don’t think I can sit there while he gives those breathtaking kisses to one of my closest friends. The fish lady was one thing, though I never actually saw them kiss, but Hallie would be another story.
“Hell no. He’s not my type.”
I take a hearty drink of my margarita. “Wait, he’s not your type? You just said all those things—”
“Yeah, yeah. I said them, but not because I’m into him. TD is totally a friend, and I would never want to actually see him naked. Okay, wait, I wouldn’t mind seeing it, but that’s as far as it goes. Do you think he’s tattooed everywhere?” she asks, leaning forward. “I’ve seen him with his shirt off, and man,” she adds, fanning her face. “Hot. I bet he has hidden tattoos we haven’t seen yet.”
“I wouldn’t know,” I mumble, taking yet another drink to help cool myself off.
“Anyway, I’m serious. Not my type.”
“What is your type?” I find myself asking. Hallie has always dated someone with a professional career, usually in a suit and tie, or at the very least a polo and khakis.
“Hell if I know anymore,” she mutters, pushing away her empty plate.
Deciding to ask the question in the forefront of my mind, I say, “Logan Johnson?”
She makes a face. “Fuck. No. That man would make me crazy in two point five seconds. We’d never survive a date. We’d kill each other before the appetizer arrived.”
Smiling, I want to tell her I strongly disagree but choose to keep my comment to myself. “I’m glad we did this.”
Hallie gives me a grin. “Me too. We don’t get to hang out very much. This whole responsible adult business is getting in the way of having fun, isn’t it?”
“For sure,” I reply with a chuckle.
“Let’s do it again soon and try to get a night where Blair can come too.”
“And Ava.”
“Yes,” Hallie says, pulling some cash from her purse and tossing it on the table. “My treat.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I insist, grabbing my own wad of cash. One of the perks of being a server is I always have cash on me.
“Nope, I got it,” she declares.
