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“Not exactly the healthiest lunch,” I say with a guilty laugh.
“Eff it—you have all summer to cook healthy meals and go for those long, sweaty jogs you like. Allow yourself to indulge today. You deserve it.” Layla squeezes my shoulder then digs into her triple chocolate dessert with her plastic spoon.
“I like the way you think. Because I don’t have the willpower to resist right now.” I’m helplessly salivating over my butterscotch treat.
Stella takes two whole bites of her birthday cake sundae before declaring that her tummy is full. She runs off to poke at the arcade games installed at the back of the shop.
The ice cream parlor really isn’t that big, so from our table, I can keep an eye on my niece. As a bonus, we also have a clear view out the large picture window at the farmer’s market’s comings and goings down the block.
The shop is empty this time of day, so Daphne decides to join us for a bit. The three of us chat about the adorable vintage get-up she’s wearing while she sneaks a scoop of strawberry-mango sorbet for herself so she can take a quick break and catch up with us.
Just as she’s pulling another chair over to our table, she looks out the window and exclaims, “Oh my good god! Who the heck isthathottie?”
I press my eyes closed and pull in a breath. Because deep down, I justknow.I know who she’s talking about before I even spot him.
Still, my head swivels toward the window in search of whoever has suddenly made my friend breathless. Truth be told, my own breath is sucked right out of my lungs when I spot Dr. Pretty Boy.
He looks sexy as fuck. He’s browsing the chalk menu at the pancake food truck that’s parked across the street.
I watch Mason pull off his neck tie and stuff the fabric into his pocket. He rolls back his shirt sleeves with the finesse of an Old Hollywood movie star.
Beside me, I hear Daphne emit a wheezy sound. Her plastic spoon falls from her fingers. “Is it just me or is the world moving in slow motion out of nowhere?” she asks, her eyes transfixed to the window.
Layla is fanning her ruddy cheeks. “And why do I hear sexy Kenny G. saxophone music playing in my head all of a sudden?”
“Pick your jaws up off the table,” I snap at my friends. “You’re practically drooling.”
My eyes pass over the street and I quickly realize that my girlfriends aren’t the only ones affected by the sight of the new doctor in town. Some woman walks right into a utility pole, too busy staring in Mason’s direction to pay attention to where she’s going. Another lady spills her grocery bag, limes and lemons rolling down the sidewalk. A car horn honks. Tires squeal.
Mason Westbrook is literally a one-man show-stopper. And every female in town is suddenly spellbound by this show.
I roll my eyes and eat a spoonful of my melting sundae.“That’s just Mason.”
“Just Mason?!” Daphne questions, her nostrils flaring. “That’s like saying, oh, it’sjustJason Momoa. It’sjustChris Hemsworth.It’sjustRyan Gosling. Girl, you need your head checked."
But while Daphne is busy ranting away, Layla gapes in realization. “Oh my god. No way!” She grabs my upper arm, her eyes bulging in shock. “Karli, isthatDr. Pretty Boy?”
“Dr. Pretty Boy?” Daphne parrots. “I’m lost. Who’s Dr. Pretty Boy?”
Layla shakes her head. “Don’t even bother, girl. You can’t have him.”
“Well, why the hell not?” Daphne folds her arms over her chest and pouts.
I snort out loud. Daphne talks a good game behind closed doors, but there’s zero action to back it up. The girl turns the color of a fire hydrant and loses all command of the English language any time a man tries to flirt with her. But among us girls, she always has a whole lot to say.
“That ice cream cone has already been licked, so to speak.” Layla looks at me, her eyebrows waggling. “Our girl Karli here already did the honors.”
Daphne’s head snaps toward me. “Details. Now.” She demands, giving me that bossy, unyielding stare until I cave.
I throw a guilty glance in Stella’s direction. Luckily for me, my niece is too caught up in the flashing lights and loud dings of her video game to pay me any mind. Still, I keep my voice low. I’m blushing fiercely as I spill the beans to my girls about how I unknowingly slept with my brother’s best friend—after I gave him a black eye.
“Christ on a whole wheat cracker!” Daphne gasps.
I grab her pinky and twist mine around hers. “This is a secret, Daphne. It stays between us. If it gets out, Felix will throw a Mount Everest-sized fit. And you know how overprotective my brothers are. The five of them will just band together to make my life hell.” I peek in Stella’s direction again.
“I won’t tell a soul,” Daphne promises. “But it's totally not fair that you get to hook up with the new hottie in town.”
“Trust me—I wish I hadn’t,” I mumble.“And I’m definitely not doing it again.”
