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"She was here last week."
"And?"
Luna looks around the empty shop and slides onto the counter. She pushes to the front. Dangles her long legs off the edge.
She looks cool and effortless in her crop top, shorts, and high-top sneakers, but we both know she's buzzing over her boyfriend's imminent arrival.
"You didn't look very casual," she says.
"So?"
"Tricky, don't play dumb. I'm a woman who's gone two weeks without."
"Two weeks is nothing."
"Maybe if you're not getting something good," she says.
"And when you were single?" I ask.
"When you're single, the world is your oyster. There's possibility at every corner."
"A whole world of dick to unlock?" I offer.
"You tease, but yes. I don't want to see them all, but I know I can, anytime I want."
I can't argue. She's a knockout. I'm sure she can find a dozen willing guys via bar, party, or hookup app. And I understand her feeling too. When I was single and wanting, I felt a different hunger. A general sense I knew I could sate with effort.
Right now, knowing I have to wait another nine minutes to tease Imogen?
It's torture.
"You two haven't had phone sex?" I ask.
"That only made it worse."
Another laugh spills from my lips.
"See. That's what I mean. You laugh because you love me and love my pain."
"Sure."
"And you laughed the same way just now. So… is that her?"
"Yes," I say.
"It's serious?"
"No," I say. "Not for her."
"But for you?"
"No comment."
"And your online friend…"
"We're not friends," I say. "I read her journal. That's it. Do you tell Oliver about your fantasies of Michael B. Jordan?"
"That's not the same."
