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Dexter groans as Sophie pulls away and rights her shirt.
But my best friend ignores his protests. “Oh my God, Cat,” she says, eyes wide. “Your hair looks fucking amazing.”
I finger the ends nervously. “You think?”
Dex nods. “You look hot.”
“You’re like a mom but hotter,” Sophie teases.
I snort. “You goof. But seriously, I need help. What does one wear when introducing her daughter to her long-lost father who until recently was thought to be the devil incarnate but is actually quite likable and she maybe sort of likes him but wants him to suffer a bit longer before putting him out of his misery?”
Dex blinks a few times and Sophie bursts out laughing.
“Oh, I love this version of you.” Without another word, she whips around and sifts through the racks of clothes. “Dex, where is that red sweater with the slouchy neck and the open shoulder?”
Dex blinks again and then mutters, “With the flat black boot, right?”
“And the jeans with the buttons instead of zippers.”
“Fuck, Soph, you’re hot when you talk fashion with me.”
All I can do is grin at the two of them as they move around the closet in synchronization, each grabbing items as they go. In a matter of minutes, they’ve collected five outfits and are shooing me toward the closet. “The others are for any upcoming outings, but start with the sweater. I think that will be perfect for tonight.” Sophie winks.
Dex mumbles something about giving us privacy, then he grasps the back of Sophie’s neck and gives her a searing kiss before disappearing out the door with a nod in my direction.
“God,” I breathe, “how do you get anything done with that around all the time?”
Her eyes are still on the door, and her jaw is a little slack. After a moment, she blinks and licks her lips. “We like to keep it interesting.”
“You make marriage look easy.” I sigh. Will my marriage to Jay be like that? Easy? Or will I always harbor these insecurities?
Sophie cocks a hip and raises her brows. “You wanna know what marriage is? Last night, I’m giving Dex a blowjob, and I’m really getting into it, you know?” She pauses, seriously waiting for me to acknowledge the idea of her giving her husband head.
All I can do is smile and nod. My best friend is ridiculous.
Seemingly satisfied that I’m listening, she continues. “In the middle of it, he cups my chin, and I’m feeling myself, loving the way his thumb brushes against my cheek so damn reverently. I feel like one of those girls in a romance novel. So cherished…or so I think. Suddenly, there’s a tug on my chin, so I look up, thinking he’s going to hit me with some dirty talk. Call me his dirty little slut or something. Nope. The fucking guy is yanking on a damn hair on my chin. He smiles and says, ‘Sorry. That was distracting me.’”
I squeal in laughter, but Sophie doesn’t stop. “A fucking hair was distracting him during a blowjob.”
“Did you stop?” I say between broken breaths.
“No. I let him come on my face, but that is totally not the point of the story.”
“Okay, I’ll bite. What’s the point of the story?”
She takes a deep breath. “Marriage is about friendship. Laughing at the absurd moments. Together. Because, of course, after he gave me a facial, we laid in bed and giggled over it. It’s stealing those special moments, especially when you’ve got kids. And I’m so fucking excited for you to experience it, Cat. I have a feeling tonight is going to be the first step in your happily ever after.”
Fighting back tears, I pull Sophie in for a hug. “You’re a good friend,” I whisper.
“I’d be a better friend if I told you that facials are really good for your skin.” She tilts closer so I can inspect the smooth skin on her face.
Shedoeslook radiant today, and now I’m a teensy bit concerned she’s serious.
I take my time trying on all the outfits, saving the red sweater for last so I don’t have to change when I get home. Dex and Sophie were right; it’s perfect. It shows off a hint of skin on my shoulders, and the slouchy neck highlights my new haircut.
“What are you guys having for dinner?” Sophie asks as we head toward the elevators.
I trip over my own foot—the black boots Dexter suggested fit perfectly—because I haven’t even thought about food for tonight. “Shit, Soph, I didn’t get that far. I have no idea.” Panic claws at my chest.
