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“He’s a plumber in my new building.” Alexa dragged a sliver of meat through steak sauce. These days she was full before she made it halfway through a meal. Damn stress. “He didn’t get riled at me, though I was a little keyed up.”
“You? Keyed up? Impossible. So, uh, why would you almost kiss a strange man?”
Why indeed. The intensely hot moments she’d spent with Dillon in her bathroom might as well have shone a spotlight on her sexual drought. From where she was sitting, rushing headlong into an impetuous blink-and-its-over fling with a man who was likely all wrong for her was made of win. Assuming she could get Dillon on board, which might require some finesse considering his disappearing act.
She’d just have to convince him. Through tactical—and explicit—means.
“Do you remember the old Alexa?” she asked, meeting Nellie’s concerned hazel gaze. “The one who grabbed hold of the Tilt-A-Whirl of life and held on with both hands?”
“The one who had a love life I was always jealous of? Yeah, I remember her. But you’ve grown up now.“
“So if you grow up, you can’t enjoy yourself anymore? You can’t snatch a few hours from real life and go do something wild and crazy, just so you don’t forget you still can?” The memory of Dillon pressed so tight against her back, hard and hot, drew forth a shiver she couldn’t suppress. Why the hell hadn’t she hadn’t taken her own advice?
“Life’s about more than staying up at night crunching numbers you can’t make balance, no matter what you do,” she continued, softer now, as she shifted her gaze to the twisted stems of the yellow and peach carnations in the table vase. So pretty and simple. But right now, carnations represented everything she hadn’t yet made work. “Or it should be.”
“I know you’ve had a rough time lately. You don’t have to stay up alone. Ever. Besides, I can’t sleep much now that munchkin likes to pretend she’s rolling down the Falls in a barrel.” Nellie gave her a beseeching look that any man, woman, or child would have trouble saying no to. “Call me and we’ll watch reality TV together. Or trash-talk men. I’m always up for that.”
Alexa rolled her eyes. “You’re completely, disgustingly, in love with my brother. You haven’t trashed him once, ever. Not to mention the last three times I’ve been over you were lights out, blankie up to the neck, by nine o’clock.”
“Hey, I’m trying to help. I know I can’t necessarily relate to everything you’re going through right now, but true friends stick by you and try to offer moral support.”
Alexa sighed at Nellie’s hurt tone. Great. Any time now she’d make the pregnant lady cry and her saintly brother Jake would swoop in and tell her off. As he probably should.
Surely she needed someone to tell her off. She’d been snippy and tense with everyone lately. “I’m sorry, Nellie-cakes. I had no reason to snap at you,” she said, reaching out to clasp Nellie’s hand.
“No. You didn’t. But I accept the apology.” Nellie smiled and reached behind her to grab her jacket off the back of her chair. “Sheesh, the AC in here is crazy. I’m freezing!”
“Aww, don’t cover up the fuzzy gray kitten,” Alexa protested, laughing at the narrow-eyed look she got in return.
Nellie—Noelle to those who hadn’t been her best friend since they were in kindergarten—had a tendency to wear shirts adorned with sheep and bunnies under the best of circumstances, but pregnancy had given her the chance to go all out. Designers of maternity clothes evidently loved the animal theme. Today’s shirt featured an adorable tabby cat holding up a daisy.
Another flower. God, no wonder she couldn’t escape her thoughts. Divine’s eviction bill would probably arrive with a tulip stamp on the envelope.
“Not all of us are meant to wear designer clothes,” Nellie said with a sniff as she bundled her jacket around herself. But the teasing light was back in her eyes, letting Alexa know the crisis had passed.
If luck held, there would be no crying fits at their dinner table, either hormonally or situationally based. All things considered, that meant they were doing okay.
She was doing okay.
“So tell me more about your plumber,” Nellie said, returning to her dinner. She ate with a gusto that Alexa couldn’t help but envy. Truthfully, there were a lot of things about Nellie’s life she envied, when she dared admit it to herself.
Which wouldn’t be tonight. Settling down was all well and good for some people, but not her. Who wanted to stare at the same guy’s mug day in and day out? Who wanted the tiny noose of a gold band around their finger? Not her. She wanted sex. Dirty, potentially regrettable sex. With Dillon.
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“He’s not my plumber.” Giving up on her half-eaten meal, Alexa reached for the dessert menu. She was in a chocolate sort of mood. “He could’ve been, for an hour or so. Maybe two, depending on the size of his wrench.”
“Lex!”
Alexa giggled and peered at her best friend over the top of her menu. “Split some chocolate lava cake with me?”
“As if you had to ask. So what’s his name?”
“Dillon James.” Alexa went back to looking at the menu. She could always drown her sorrows in apple brown betty. With extra whipped cream, nutmeg, and a sprinkling of walnuts. “Or would you rather—”
“Dillon? Is he new in town?”
Alexa was tempted to respond with how should I know but decided that might make her look sort of indiscriminate. Nellie had never even kissed a guy she didn’t have a full dossier on, so it wouldn’t take much to squick her out. “I have no idea.”
