Page 95 of Elf-ish

“Nine,” he grunts next, and I glance down at his jersey, noting the number.

He leans forward without breaking his rhythm. “And I’ve newly developed a taste for chocolate mints made by a beautiful creature named Angelica.”

It hits me in this precarious position, that he’s just told me his favorite color, number, and food.

“Why?” I gasp, cutting off the rest of my thought. Why is he telling me these things?

He surges into me one more time, before leaning forward and whispering toward my ear. “Because these are things my girlfriend should know.”

He doesn’t clarify fake or not. He simply pulls back and begins a relentless rhythm that I embrace as I cling to the back of the couch.

His hands clutch at my hips again, certain to leave marks, if not the imprint of him as he drives into me.

“So. Good.” He grunts before releasing one hip and awkwardly smoothing down his jersey against my back.

His name is on display. His number as well.

“Angelica,” he shouts, then stills inside me, where I feel him jolt and jerk. He collapses forward, resting his forehead between my shoulder blades and slipping his hands around to my lower belly, pressing gently at it, as if he can feel himself inside me.

When he slowly lifts, he’s gentle as he slips out of me. I fold to one side, sliding down the cushion to sit.

Jude reaches for me, lifting me into the air and presses a kiss to my temple.

“Let’s shower.”

Within minutes, we begin round two.

chapter 29

[Angelica]

On Friday, I have plans to meet up with some of the girls. It’s been too long since we’ve gotten together. Christmas is less than a week away, and everyone is busy, but also needs a break from the chaos. For me, between the anxiety over Beau’s wedding, and my work schedule, plus my newfound interest in Jude, I could use some time to process what the heck we are doing.

Holiday Escape, they dubbed the evening, because everything feels like it needs a theme this time of year.

For the moms in our gathering—Holliday Santos and Eva Scroggs—a night out during the busiest time of the year for mothers is a necessity.

For the single girls in our group, which includes me and an emergency room nurse friend named Noelle Darling, we just want to have fun.

Originally, we were supposed to go to a country bar, which are few and far between in a major metropolis, and line dance. Eventually, we settled on O’Malley’s as the other girls just wanted to drink.

“I don’t want to do anything that involves exerting energy other than lifting my glass of wine,” Holliday says once we settle in a back booth.

Since O’Malley’s is kind of my after-work spot with the guys, I wasn’t as thrilled to be here. Still, Seamus O’Malley, the owner, treats the first responders who frequent his place with respect. Our first round is on the house.

“So . . .” Holliday breaks in as soon as our drinks arrive. “What’s the word with the boyfriend?” She wiggles her brows at me.

“You have a boyfriend?” Eva asks. The brunette beauty is married to Zebb, who hosted A Snowball’s Chance fundraiser. She’s embraced being a bonus mom while she and Zebb have two additional children.

“Not exactly.” I lift my cranberry vodka for a sip, noticing immediately that it doesn’t rival the fancy cocktail I had at Jude’s holiday party in Wisconsin.

“What exactly is it then?” Noelle asks. She has red hair like me, although hers isn’t as vibrant as mine. More subtle, bordering on acorn brown. We met about a year ago when she was new to Chicago, and she’s come out with me on occasion to get some girl time. She’s in a relationship that she’s hoping will be taken to the next level any day now. I’ve only heard about the lawyer-boyfriend, but I’ve never met him.

“I . . . I don’t know.” I consider how Jude mentioned girlfriend the other night. The things a girlfriend should know about him. Green. Nine. Chocolate mints. But it all feels too much, too soon. We’re past the faking-it part. We agree we aren’t pretending.

But we’re still undefined, which is what I say next.

“Undefined?” Eva questions.