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Laughter bursts over my lips.
Abbie rests her chin on her palm and lets out a sigh. “I wish I could wave a magic wand so you can have your man.”
“Me too.” I pick up a napkin and start to fold it into different shapes. “Have you ever thought of running away?”
“No,” Abbie answers honestly. “I love you too much, and besides, my parents will find me before I cross the border.”
“True,” I mutter.
“There’s our food!” Abbie’s up from her chair before I can move a muscle. “My hero.” She takes the paper bag from the server and gives him a dazzling smile. “Thank you.”
The poor man’s so stunned by Abbie’s beautiful smile it looks like he forgets how to function.
I get up, and when we walk out of the dining hall and toward the side door, I say, “Every time you smile like that near a man, it looks like he falls instantly in love. Careful you don’t give the wrong person the wrong idea.”
“I’m just flirting a little.”
I make a disgusted face. “The server is old enough to be your grandpa!”
“Age is just–”
“A number,” I complete her sentence. “You do you, girl, but that’s a hard no for me.”
“Everyone who’s not Misha is a hard no for you,” she teases me.
Walking out into the cool night air, lights twinkle across the grounds.
“It’s so beautiful here,” Abbie sighs. “When I get my own place, I want my garden to look like this.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty,” I agree.
When we reach the path leading to the waterfall, Abbie bumps her shoulder against mine. “Sooo…are you going to tell me how it was?”
The corner of my mouth lifts. “It was everything I dreamed about and more.”
“Ooooh!” She holds her hand up for a high-five, and when I slap hers, she says, “Tell me everything.”
We’re close, but we’ve never discussed our sex lives, or non-existence of it, with each other.
I go with something safe to share. “Misha told me he loves me.”
“I heard that when I was eavesdropping in the bedroom. Give me the juicy bits. Did it hurt?”
I let out a burst of laughter. “It’s still freaking hurting.”
We reach the waterfall, and sitting down on the cobbled stones, Abbie places the paper bag between us. She pulls the containers out, and opening one, she helps herself to a buffalo wing.
“If you’re still hurting, I’m going to assume Misha is packing.”
Frowning, I ask, “Didn’t it hurt when you lost your virginity?”
She shrugs. “No. Honestly, I wasn’t sure he was in.”
“Oh, my God,” I shriek with laughter. “Do I know him?”
“No. I lost it on vacation to Bali. He was a bartender.”
I scrunch my nose. “I wish yours would grow back so you can lose it to someone better.”
