Gracie laughs. “Girl, we can absolutely talk about sex.”
I give the blond goddess a glance every female on earth understands. “Good thing we’re liberated women who won’t be told what to do.”
“Amen, sister.” Gracie raises her wineglass in a toast.
“Seriously, it was nothing.” Charlie turns his imploring pleas on Gracie. “Tell her! We were just… What should I call it?”
“Fucking?” Gracie provides.
Charlie snarls. “I was going for something like casually dating.”
James chuckles lazily, raising a glass to Charlie. “Good one.”
I look at the man who, by all appearances, is mild-mannered but is clearly capable of keeping up with his wife. “What is wrong with you?”
“I’ve been waiting for this conversation since you showed up. What can I say? I’m having a great time,” James says.
“Your wife and him—” I jab a finger in Charlie’s direction “—had sex.”
“Yeah, I know. Actually, when I met Gracie, she hated me, and they were still…” Behind his glasses, his green eyes dance with mischief. “Fucking?”
“Why are you making this worse?” Charlie scrubs a hand over his face.
“Because everyone at this table has a vested interest in watching you suffer. I thought that would be obvious,” James says.
“I have to side with James here. You were past due,” Mitch adds helpfully.
I make a good show of being disgruntled. “And how long were you fucking?”
“Don’t make it sound like that. We were friends. That’s all.” His tone is full of Southern exasperation.
“How. Long?” The words shoot out like bullets.
A put-upon, aggrieved sigh escapes his chest. “I don’t know, a couple years.”
“Years!” I press a fingertip to my temple for dramatic effect.
“I swear we were just really, really good friends.” His brow furrows. “Wait. That came out wrong. I don’t mean in an innuendo way, but more like friends who…also…um…kinda had sex for a couple of years…but, like, friendly sex.”
“Friendly sex?” I raise a brow.
He clears his throat. “Yes, we were there, and it seemed like the thing to do at the time, so we did. But it wasn’t serious. If it had been serious, we wouldn’t be friends.”
“You’re trying to tell me you had friendly, not serious sex for two years with Gracie? Then one day, you stopped having sex and kept on being friends.”
“Yes.” He nods in affirmation.
Our eyes meet.
I search his dark gaze.
The room has gone pin-drop quiet, like everyone at the table is holding their breath.
Those midnight eyes don’t even flicker, and in the stillness, I find what I’m looking for. Even though I wasn’t worried, a tiny part of me still needed to read the truth on his face. To see it written across his features that whatever they had been to each other, it wasn’t like us. And he’s giving me that.
I nod. “Okay.”
A dark brow rises. “Okay?”
