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“We’rejustfriends,” I repeat.
“Uh-huh. I tried just being friends once,” Blake returns. “And now, I’m sleeping with him.”
“You guys, stop teasing her,” Ash interjects. “I think it’s great she’s making plans and getting out of the house, even if it’s to hang out with a sexy, established paramedic under the guise of friendship.”
“You forgot to add divorced and a hell of a lot older than me to the list,” I quip.
“Okay, pause,” Mia interrupts. “Let’s cut to the chase, shall we? Blake, how old is Mack?”
Blake pauses, her nose scrunching. “I dunno. Thirty…four? I think?”
Mia turns to me and pops out her hip. “And you’re…?”
“Twenty-five,” I answer.
“Dude, you’re old,” Blake teases.
The girl’s only nineteen and the youngest of the bunch. Mia and Ash are both in their early twenties, too, which means, in comparison, Iamkind of old. To be fair, I’m in my master’s program and took a year off between high school and college in hopes of making my college experience feel more carefree and less bogged down by my parents. It didn’t quite work as I’d hoped. After a seizure hit during my freshman year, I moved back home and waited out the rest of the semester until I could sign up for more classes. Since my parents were afraid I’d push myself too hard, I started slow, only taking a few credits to appease them, gradually adding more to my plate as the years went on. Not gonna lie. Part of me wonders if it’s because I’m too afraid to actually put my degree to use and move on from college life, but I’m too stubborn to acknowledge it. Nope, for now, I’m fine drowning in my biochemistry degree, no matter how difficult the courses are becoming, thank you very much.
“Okay, she’s notthatold,” Ash defends, stepping in and passing around pointed looks, daring Blake or Mia to argue with her. When both stay quiet, she turns to me and adds, “And neither is Mack. A nine or ten-year difference doesn’t matter in the big scheme of things. You’re both two consenting adults, and you’re allowed to like each other––”
“We don’t like each other,” I interrupt, but Blake cuts me off.
“That’s not what I saw the other day. Seriously, you should’ve seen these two at the gym. Mack was all sweaty from his workout and had her pressed up against the wall with his hand on her hip and his head in the crook of her neck. If that’s not some solid foreplay, I don’t know what is.” She lifts her hands as if to say,I rest my case.
“No shit?” Mia interjects, her expression filling with pride. She looks me up and down with a new sense of appreciation. “Damn, girl.”
“It wasn’t like that,” I argue.
“Then, what was it like?” Ash questions. Her makeup is officially on point as she finishes tucking her mascara into her makeup bag. With her arms folded, she rests her hip against the edge of the bathroom counter, giving me her full attention like the rest of the girls. Apparently, someone’s invested in my love life…er, lack thereof.
With a huff, I explain, “I saw Wes at the gym, got a little spooked, and ran into Mack, who thought making Wes jealous was the route to take instead of my plan, which was to run in the opposite direction. He was only pretending.”
“And were you?” Mia challenges. “Were you pretending?”
“Of course, I was pretending.”
“Uh-huh. Sure,” Blake snarks when the doorbell rings, cutting off my rebuttal.
“I’ll get it.” I slip between the gaggle of gossipers, grab my backpack from the kitchen table, and head toward the front door without bothering to see if they’re watching me from the hallway.
The hinges squeak softly as I open the door, revealing a very attractive Macklin in a pair of black pants and a white collared shirt with patches sewn into the material. It’s his uniform. And damn, it looks good on him. I glance over my shoulder to find Mia pretending to smack an imaginary guy’s ass in front of her while biting her bottom lip as if she’s at a dance club or something. I send her a warning look and turn back to Mack.
“Hey,” I greet him.
“Hey.” He tugs at the collar of his black jacket, bringing it closer around his face as the winds howl outside. I should invite him in, but if I do, the girls will pounce, and I’m not ready for that.
“How was work?” I tug the door closed a few more inches, praying it’ll give us some privacy.
“Good. Sorry I’m late. I had to stop by the grocery store and grab a few things for dinner.”
“Dinner?”
His mouth quirks up in a smile. “We gotta eat, right?”
“Oo, he’s making dinner for you?” Blake calls from the hallway.
Macklin presses his hand to the door and pushes it open a few more inches, revealing the girls in all their snooping glory.
