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“Does it matter that it’s like ten in the morning and we’re drinking vodka?”
“Call it Hair of the Dog.”
“Yep, you’ve definitely been hanging around AJ too much,” I warn her.
“Stop stalling. Talk.”
I glance around the kitchen, which has the exact same layout as mine. The few times I’d been in here with Abby before she moved in, were completely different. Sure, the furniture might be the same, but the place is homey. There are pictures of the two of them on the walls, on end tables, and secured to the fridge with magnets. Love lives here, and that makes me smile.
“Well, you know that I stayed behind and rode home with Linkin, right?”
“Yeah. Are you about to tell me you rode him home? Or at home?”
“Settle your hormones, Grandma. Do you want to hear this or not?” She waves her hand for me to continue. “Anyway, I drank more shots after you guys left. Apparently, I spilled everything about Chris at some point.” Abby’s eyebrows rise as she stares straight at me. “I passed out in his bed, but nothing happened,” I assure her.
“So this morning, I was all ready to get the hell out of there, but couldn’t because he made breakfast.”
“Breakfast?”
“French toast so good it was almost orgasmic.”
“Damn. Hot and can cook,” Abby whispers, taking another drink of her special lemonade.
“And wants to give me a baby,” I blurt out, my heart pounding in my chest like a jackhammer.
“What!?” she exclaims, spewing a mouthful of her drink all over the floor.
“Exactly! Who offers up his sperm to give a stranger a baby?” I holler.
“Do you know what happens at a sperm bank?” she asks sarcastically.
“Shut up, that’s different. I don’t know that sperm. I know this sperm. And I don’t like it.”
She looks at me with confusion written in her emerald eyes. “Wait, you don’t like the sperm?”
“No, I don’t like him.”
“Him…”
“Linkin! My God woman, would you keep up?” I howl before chugging the rest of my drink.
“Sooooooo, you like him.” It’s a statement. Not a question.
“No. I don’t.”
“Yes. You do.”
“You’re crazy, just like him.”
“So, finish. He wants to give you his sperm?”
“Yes, he wants to make a contribution. The old fashioned way,” I whisper. Why am I whispering?
“Nice! Do it, do it! He’s so hot, and I would never say this to Levi, but I got an eyeful when he did the striptease for you.”
“I can’t have his baby, Abby. I don’t know him.”
“So, get to know him.”
