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“Oooh, a private jet. That’s romantic! Did you join the mile-high club?”
“No! He didn’t have a private jet! If you have to know, he actually is in a tight spot and I paid for dinner.”
Carla’s mouth dropped open and the chunk of ice cream on her tongue nearly dribbled out.
“Gross,” Muffy shuddered. “Close your mouth. It’s okay for a woman to pay for shit nowadays, isn’t it? In this modern, forward-thinking society?”
“Yeah, I guess so, but it’s just tasteless.”
“Don’t worry. He was mortified enough for both of us.”
“He should have been.”
“No. He totally shouldn’t have been. Anyway, don’t worry. I got it back.”
“What? What do you mean?”
“He- uh- he drove me out to this field place back road thing and we went stargazing. He- went to kiss me and I kind of wasn’t expecting it and I just felt his arm slide around my shoulders, and I went to turn to look at him and his face was right there, and I plowed right into his nose. It didn’t hurt me, but I was afraid that I broke it.”
“Oh my god.” Carla giggled, her ice cream temporarily forgotten. The spoon hung uselessly from her fingers. “Did it bleed all over the place?”
“No. Thank god. He was fine.”
“And… so… you’re going to see him again? Broke ass, broken nose dude?”
“Thanks. You’re so complimentary and politically correct.” Muffy moved off to the living room. She threw herself down onto the couch and Carla followed. She held out the container of ice cream.
“Want some?”
“Yeah. Actually, I do.” Muffy took the spoon and dug in. The creamy goodness combined with the delicious doughy cookie was like heaven. “This is my consolation prize for not getting kissed tonight.”
“I saw his pictures. He was hot.”
“He is hot. He actually showed up looking like himself. His photos weren’t great online but in person. Oh my god. He was a thousand times better.”
“Like, spoon ice cream all over his balls, lick it off kind of better?”
“Oh my god, that’s weird.”
Carla blinked. “Is it?”
“You and your balls.” Muffy ate another scoop of ice cream before she passed the container back to Carla, but all she could think about, as she swallowed, was how much better any kind of dessert would taste licked off Alex’s hard abs or off his deliciously tight pecs or off the tightest ass in the history of the world or maybe… maybe even off his balls. Maybe she’d bite him after, just for good measure.
“You’re thinking about licking him right now. I can tell.”
“No, I’m not.”
“I can see your mouth watering.”
“No, you can’t!” Muffy felt her cheeks go hot.
“You were thinking about biting him, weren’t you?”
“No! What is wrong with you? You’re a sick person, you know that?”
Carla winked. “I know.”
“For someone who has sworn off men, you’re pretty into the weirdest kind of fantasies.”
“Yeah, well, that’s the thing about fantasies. They’re always better than how it is in real life. In my fantasies, men are jacked and stacked and tight and hot. In my fantasies, I lick whipped cream off every inch of their body. In my fantasy, a man actually goes down on me. After licking whipped cream off my nipples.”
Muffy slapped her hands over her ears. “La, la, la, la, I am not hearing this right now.”
“Oh, come on. Like you haven’t had any fantasies of your own? We’ve had to. We’ve only dated men who were completely inept in bed. If we didn’t dream about something way more exciting and fulfilling, we’d probably become shriveled up old shrews.”
“We practically are. We’re old. We share an apartment. We’re both technically single. You have no plans to date anyone anytime soon and I can’t attract a man to save my soul. I seriously doubt he’s going to call me back. He says he will, but I already know he won’t. The nice ones and the hot ones and the normal ones never do. It’s only the crazies that try endlessly to get a second date.”
“The stalkers, you mean.”
“Whatever. I doubt he’s going to call. He didn’t try and kiss me again and I messed it up the first time. He probably thinks I’m some weird thirty-year-old virgin freakster.”
Just then, Muffy’s phone buzzed. She still had her jacket on, and it was tucked into her pocket. She pulled it out, expecting the text to be from her sister or her parents, but it wasn’t.
She’d programmed Alex’s number in there, totally not planning on calling it. He probably had rattled off a list of fake digits. He had a good poker face. He was a nice guy. He was probably just trying to let her down easy without her knowing at the time that it was what he was doing. Unfortunately, she’d seen that trick before.
“Is it from him?” Carla whisper-yelled. Actually, she just yelled. She was so excited she nearly knocked over the tub of ice cream.
