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“Okay, so we just had sex.” I tug at the blinds, pulling the string to raise them. “Well, not really sex, I guess. But really, really close to it.”
“And?” Of course Hardin’s response would be And?
I make sure my voice is only slightly louder than a whisper. “This is the thing. Nora has told me so many times that we have to stay friends, and we were just talking, like usual, and then two seconds later she’s straddling me and having an orgasm and then Tessa walked in right after, and now I’m in my room and I’m kind of freaking the hell out because I don’t know what to do or say now.”
“Wow. Tessa walked in? The chick was straddling you on a chair? Well, there’s no denying that, then. Wait—so you fucked her on a kitchen chair? Or she just rode you until she came?” he asks in a casual tone, like his mouth isn’t as dirty as a public toilet.
“Um, the second one. We didn’t have sex—well, like the sex where something goes into something else . . .”
“Really?” His voice is calm, amusement playing at its edges. “Did you really just say that? I might as well ask you to show me on the doll where she touched you.”
“I don’t know why I called.” I sigh. Leaning back, I stare at my weirdly colorful ceiling fan.
Hardin seems to notice something in my voice, so he eases up a bit. “So, do you like her? I mean, why else would hooking up with her be a problem? You’re single, she’s single. Right?”
I contemplate this for a moment. Am I single?
Yes. Dakota and I have been broken up for months.
The looming fact that she was here just yesterday waves its hand in my face.
Man, I’m an asshole. I should tell Nora about Dakota’s being here. It’s only fair. That’s what a nice guy would do, and I’m a nice guy.
“We are both single. Except Dakota was here last night.”
I hate to admit it.
I’m not that kind of guy.
I’m really not.
“Yikes. Delilah, too? What the hell is going on there?”
I don’t bother to correct him on Dakota’s name. “I don’t know. But don’t tell Tessa. Seriously, she’s got enough going on, and Nora is really freaked out about Tessa finding out. I mean it. I don’t care if Tessa’s naked and asks you to tell her what’s up—you better pretend you know nothing.”
“If she’s naked, there’s no promising anything.”
“Ugh.”
“Fine. Fine. I won’t say anything. Did you talk to her about her schedule yet?”
No. Because I’m too big of a chickenshit. “Not yet. She’s been working a lot lately. Oh, and I need to warn you about something, but you can’t freak out.” I pause. “Seriously, you can’t. Promise me,” I say softly. I don’t want Tessa or Nora to hear me gossiping about them to Hardin.
“What? What’s going on?” he asks, and I can tell his mind is going to the worst of places.
“Promise me,” I repeat.
He huffs in impatient frustration. “Yeah, sure, I promise.”
“You know that waiter guy from the lake that weekend? When you and Tessa were fighting the whole time?”
“We weren’t fighting the whole time.” His voice is defensive, but lightly so. “But, yeah, what about him?”
“He’s here.”
