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Bella pursed her lips then she eyed me. “Your hair looks insane. And where are your eyelashes?”
“I took them off. I put them on my beer bottle, but they can’t be reused anyway, can they?” I wasn’t sure.
Without warning Bella burst out laughing. “Soph. You are always you, I’ll give you that.”
It sounded like a compliment. I was grateful to be off the hook. I didn’t want her lecturing me for days on end. But I wasn’t going to lie about what I had done either. “I’ve been planning this for a while,” I admitted.
“Come sit down and tell me everything.”
Ew. I did not want to do that. I wanted to take my night with Cain and put it in a secret place, only to be examined on occasion. Because I had enjoyed it. A lot. I actually liked Cain. And I really liked what he did to my body. It had been eye-opening. That sexual awakening I had somewhat joked about. I didn’t really want to discuss that with Bella but she lived for girl talk. So I would attempt it just so she wouldn’t give me crap about texting Cain like I was fully intending to do. She would tell me I should play hard to get, but I wasn’t looking for a relationship, and I wanted to repeat tonight at least once more while I was in town.
That hadn’t been part of the original plan, but now I couldn’t quit the idea.
I sat on the couch next to her, running my hands through my hair. “What am I supposed to tell you?”
Shifting, I found it intriguing that I had vaginal soreness. Not surprising, yet not something I had thought about in advance. I hoped Bella didn’t want a blow-by-blow because I wasn’t giving her that.
“What does his house look like?”
That was an easy question. “It’s a Cape Cod style. Dark paneling. Clean. Dated. He lives alone.” I relaxed a little.
“Did he ask you to spend the night?”
“Yes. I said no, obviously.”
“That’s good. There is nothing grosser than a guy who wants to boot a girl out of his bed two seconds after doing it.”
Huh. I wondered what she would think about my attempts to leave two seconds after doing it. Also, her terminology amused me. Not for the first time, I wondered how exciting Bella and Bradley’s sex life was. I had a feeling she was a prude. “He was actually a decent host for a guy who drank six glasses of whiskey. You would approve.”
“Did he go down on you? Guys are so chintzy about that now. Everyone wants oral but no one wants to give it.” Bella looked like she might be talking about something personal.
Again, I had to wonder. Bradley seemed like a guy who would be selfish in bed. I didn’t dislike Bella’s fiancé exactly, but I thought, generally speaking, he was a douchebag. “He did. His idea, not mine.”
“Ooh, la la. Interesting. Was he good at it? I mean, I imagine he would be or he wouldn’t offer it on the menu.”
“I had an orgasm so he didn’t suck at it.” My nipples tightened just thinking about it. I wanted more of that. More of all of it. I pressed my hands to my cheeks to cool them down.
“That’s good. You know I am not a fan of hookups, but I’m glad you enjoyed it. I would have been so sad for you if it was horrible.”
“Me too.” I crossed my feet and tucked them in under my knees. “I wouldn’t mind doing it again,” I said, even though I knew I shouldn’t. I thought she was going to warn me against getting attached and remind me hookups don’t work that way.
But Bella had happily ever after on the brain. “Oooh, what if you fall in love and get married? That would be so cute.”
I stared at my phone, wondering if I should text Cain my number now or tomorrow. “That’s not going to happen.”
“You never know. What does he do for a living? He looks like a carpenter.” Bella jumped, like something amazing had occurred to her. “Oh, my God, he can be a house husband to your kids. You can work, doing your numbers thing, and he can raise your children. This is so cute.”
My sister had lost her mind. “He’s a lobster fisherman.” Which I needed to research out of pure curiosity.
“What? Really? Oh. That’s disappointing.”
“Why?”
“Stinky fish.” Bella’s nose wrinkled. “Hey, don’t forget we are having alterations done at noon tomorrow in town.”
“How could I forget?” She had reminded me at least four times in the last twelve hours.
“Then we’re going to meet with the caterer.”
