AllFreeNovel
Share Us
* * *
“Well,that went pretty good, I think,” Sloan says with a sigh of relief. I can feel the weight lifted off her as we drive home.
“I took it as a good sign that we stayed for game night and nothing seemed abnormal after you and your parents spoke.”
“No, they were really cool about it. Actually, when I first told them, they stared at me for a few seconds and then my dad spoke up. He asked me if it was like the swinger’s club they go to with your parents and the Turners.”
Almost choking on my saliva, I say, “What the actual fuck?”
Sloan starts hysterically laughing. “That was my initial reaction. I mean, no judgment if that’s your thing, but the last image I want in my head is our parents doingthattogether. Thankfully, my mom smacked dad for bringing that up and put me out of my misery… telling me he was just joking.”
Exhaling a breath of relief I sigh, “Thank God.”
“Yeah, for real. They did inform me that our other friend’s parents used to spread rumors about the six of them being swingers, since they were all so close.”
I shake my head at this information. “No one was ever brave enough to say that to Eli or me.”
“But anyways… yeah, they were super chill about it. They’re just excited I’m coming back to New York. They kept singing your praises.”
“Trust me, my parents were the same about you,” I say, bringing her wrist to my lips and pressing a kiss to her little crown tattoo. “I wish I could go with you to California to help settle things out there, but I have some business at the bar I really need to take care of.”
“Baby, it’s fine. I’m going to miss you like crazy, but we just have to remind each other that it's only for two and a half weeks and then we have forever.”
“Forever… I like the sound of that. We were always destined for eternity. I truly believe that my little Thea.”
“Me too,” she says, moving her body over the center console. “Now, about that road-head you mentioned earlier,” Lo whispers in my ear as her hand moves to my zipper.
This woman and that pretty mouth of hers… how the hell did I get so lucky?
Twenty
Blasting Sam Smith is a sure-fire way to get packing done. There’s nothing better than dancing around and fake singing into your hand while sorting through all the shit you’ve accumulated over the last four years. Especially when one of your besties is right there with you indulging in your ridiculousness.
Quinn arrived yesterday to spend the weekend and help me get my life sorted out. I'm thankful the family she nannies for is in Europe for Thanksgiving, allowing her to help me this weekend.
Unfortunately, Ava couldn’t make it this weekend. She’s busy setting up her new office space. I can't wait to meet up with her and do our walk through of Masqued once I'm back in New York. I’ve been incessantly texting her every idea that pops into my head these past few weeks, that I'm dying to see how she translates all of that into her designs.
“Still can't believe you’re moving back to New York,” Quinn says with her head still buried amongst my clothes.
“I know it’s sort of surreal. Still doesn’t feel real.”
“Are you going to miss California?” she asks with a handful of shoes that lived in the depths of my closet.
“I’ll definitely miss the weather, but I do miss the snowy winters in New York and of course, the people there, too.” I tip my chin to the load in her arms. “Is this the rest of them?”
“Ha! I hope so. Geez girl… I knew you had a shoe problem, but this is crazy.”
Grabbing them from her hands and dropping them into the cardboard box beside me, I label it “shoe box 3 of 3,” then label the previous ones accordingly.
“Everybody has some sort of collection. Mine happens to be shoes and purses. You know, no matter how much weight you gain or lose, your shoes and purses will always fit.”
“Say that after you and Wes pop out an army of kids. My mom swears her feet grew after each kid she had.”
“Let’s all pray that doesn’t fricken happen. Otherwise, it’s going to cost me a shitload to replace them all.” We both laugh, and Quinnie does the sign of the cross for good measure.
Looking around the room, I'm feeling quite accomplished. I packed most of my apartment up this week, leaving the bedroom for when Quinn came to help.
“Can we go to Los Borachos yet?” she asks as she leans her arm on my shoulder, joining me in my perusal of the room.
