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I put my plate down and adjusted my blanket and heating pad. The best offense was redirecting Taylor’s attention.
“I know you’ve done it with Hunter before. He can barely keep his bear paws off of you. Don’t tell me I’m the only woman who’s done it and actually liked it.” Eyes rolling, Taylor shoved off the couch leaving me to curl up hugging a throw pillow.
“Are you really going to avoid talking about what I just saw?” She wants to know about Damien. I’m not ready to talk about it.
“Eh, probably. Do you want to compare sex notes?” I let her think we reached a stalemate.
“I only let him spoon me with clothes on.” She husked.
“Oh come on, not even butt sex for you two?” Watching Taylor turn crimson was the sweetest revenge I conjured up while my insides revolted at being a female of reproductive age.
“Shut up!”
“Party pooper.” Giggling I let her off mercifully.
“Whatever, I prefer to not have a crime scene in my shorts.”
“You know that they have special underwear for that now.”
“Ugh, I don’t know how our friendship has survived this long.”
“Because you love me, and you’re going to stick this heating pad back in the microwave for exactly two minutes and twenty-two seconds.” I thrust the pad at her playing off the pout on my face. Yeah, she loves me.
“Hand it over number freak.” Taylor grabbed the heating pad from my hand walking into the kitchen where I have to call out to her to make sure she heard my next demand.
“So did you bring me dough nuts?”
“Of course KC. I know better than to come over empty handed when you’re in the middle of your moon cycle.” She shook the bag of fresh made doughnuts she dumped on my side table and my mouth waters greedy and expectant.
“Grandma Halle loves these.” I stuffed a doughnut in my mouth letting the powder fluff out as I speak. I can’t decide if I want to punch him in the face or have his babies today. It’s tough call and one I can’t leave up to the ESPN commentators.
“And just what would she say about your shenanigans?”
“I think she would approve and tell me to put on some red lipstick for good measure.”
“I miss Grandma Halle. It was so great to see her for the Fourth of July party. When is she coming back to town?” Taylor leaned back on my sofa, her eyes closed looking relaxed.
“Soon, I can’t believe she stills drives three and a half hours from VT to come to everything for us. Are you inviting her to the wedding?” I asked.
“Of course, I think the shower is a bit much and Hunter wants to keep things small and uncomplicated.”
“Of course he does, he’s a guy, but it’s
your day too.” I grumbled forced to hide my secret envy.
“Yes, but we agreed to not invite his family from down south since he hasn’t spoken to them in years.” Taylor frowned and her sadness becomes mine in a way close friends–nearly sisters do.
“Since the accident with his parents right?”
Taylor nodded. “I think he’s really hurt by that and I want to respect his wishes. We could always try visiting them later but I don’t want to force the issue. Beside we have Damien’s parents here and they’re really the only family he acknowledges.”
Having grown up in a loving, if at times neglectful family dynamic, I can’t imagine how Hunter feels at all and so I responded with an answer that sounded agreeable. “Hmm.”
“Right, so back to what I saw.” Taylor looked ready to gouge me with the stolen steak knives from my old waitressing days in my utensil drawer. I returned the look through one eye wondering if this is one of those come to Jesus moments I’m learning to regret.
Sighing, “It was a thing. An itch and now it’s done.”
“Didn’t look done when he left.”
