Page 95 of Scouting the Single Dad

“And speaking of sex . . .”

I groan.

Faith’s brows rise, a sly grin creeping in. “How was it? And don’t you dare give me some vague ‘it was nice’ answer. I want adjectives, Layla. At least three.”

Hot, intense, orgasmic.

“Which time?” I ask in a cocky, boastful tone.

“How many times was it?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. Four? I’m sore.” So sore . . .

Faith makes a strangled sound and practically falls sideways on her couch. “Four? I hate you!”

I laugh. “Beard burn is real, and I love it.”

The spot between my legs aches from having them spread for so long, and I glance at the shower; it would probably feel so good right now, and Lord knows I need to rinse off . . .

“Oh my God, Layla! You’re walking around stiff and sore while I sleep next to a Squishmallow when Clarke isn’t sleeping at my place. Do you hear the jealousy in my voice?”

I do hear the jealousy in her voice but remind her, “It’s not like we have tons of single dudes in Star Lake.”

Faith pulls a chunk off her sandwich savagely with her teeth. “Do you know how long it’s been since someone made me sore in the fun way? Ugh! You’re living my dream!”

“Sorry?” Not sorry.

“Don’t apologize. Tell me more. Is he . . .” She lowers her voice dramatically. “A dirty talker or no?”

I tilt my head back and forth. “Eh. Sort of? Yes. But not really.” He was more of a moaner. Loud groans, gasping. Not that I’m going to tell her that; she might be my best friend, but some things are meant to stay private. “He wasn’t exactly quiet.”

“Layla, I swear to God, if you don’t marry him just so I can live vicariously through you, we are officially fighting.”

“You are so dramatic!”

“So?” She shrugs. “You’re glowing, you’re sore, and you’ve got beard burn between your legs and on your face. What I wouldn’t give to be over here sexting random strangers on dating apps who I’ll probably never meet because we live in the middle of freaking nowhere.” She grumbles. “But no, I have Clarke.”

I laugh until my stomach hurts. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Find the lie.”

We laugh together until Faith sighs, licking her fingers. “Well. You’ve been holed up in that bathroom way too long. He’s going to send a search party.”

I nod. “Yeah. I should go—I have to rinse off.” Pause. “Thanks for letting me vent.”

She gives me a patient smile. “That’s what I’m here for—pep talks and the occasional inappropriate question.”

I grin. “You nailed both today.”

“Damn right I did.” She leans closer to the camera. “And Layla? Don’t talk yourself out of this before you even give it a chance. You like him. He clearly likes you. See where it goes—don’t assume it won’t go anywhere.”

Right.

I can do that. “I’ll think about it.”

“Uh-huh. You do that. Love you.”

“Love you more.”