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“No, you’re a lunatic. It wasn’t like that. He was just saying he planned to have a quiet weekend since his kids were with his parents.”
“Jesus, woman, are you blind? He was telling you he had no plans, and no kids, all weekend. Was this before or after he kissed you?”
“Well… it was before he kissed me, but after I kissed him.”
“WHAT!” she shrieked, and I slid down in my seat in embarrassment as half the restaurant glanced our way. “Wait a second. You didn’t tell me you kissed him first!”
“It wasn’t a big deal,” I hissed. “He was telling me about his life in the military and how he liked what I was doing with the employee programs, and I just kind of leaned over and kissed him. It was just a peck on the lips.”
The smirk on Tessa’s face was smug. “You little liar. You played this whole thing off like you didn’t know how he felt and he surprised you, and then you finally admit you kissed him first. Well, the ball is definitely in your court now.”
“Wait, what? Why is the ball in my court?”
“You kissed him first.” She ticked off her points on her fingers. “Then he told you he was kid-free and without plans all weekend. Then he planted one hell of a smooch on you, escorted you to your car, and sent you home all glowy and weak in the knees. Did you text him when you got home?”
“I did.”
“And how did he respond?”
“He thanked me for letting him know and said ‘sweet dreams.’”
“Ha! See? Gate’s wide open, babe. He’s waiting for you to run through.”
“Howdo you conclude that?”
“If he had said something like ‘have a great weekend’ that’s him assuming, or implying, that he won’t see you again until Monday. But he only said ‘sweet dreams’, which leaves it open for the entire weekend.” Tessa retrieved her fresh mimosa from the table and took a long, triumphant sip. “Ball is in your court, and if you want to get a little somethin’ somethin’, all you gotta do is ask.”
I set down my coffee and picked up the mimosa I’d been ignoring in favor of caffeine. It’d sat long enough for condensation to collect on the outside, and the cold droplets ran down my fingers while I sipped. Ithadbeen a while since I’d gotten some action, and I couldn’t recall being this excited about a guy since Zach and I first started dating. The last couple of years of on-again, off-again felt more tedious than fun. “You really think so?” I asked finally.
“Girl, I know so. You guys want to keep it on the DL around your dad? That’s your business. But I guarantee if you text him and invite him out, he’ll be up for it.”
“Maybe, but we’ve got plans tonight. I’m not going to blow you off for a guy. Ride or die, remember?”
“Honey, you know I’m living vicariously through you with all of this. But you don’t have to cancel. Why don’t you just invite him to come with us?”
I lowered my chin and leveled a disbelieving stare her way. “To karaoke? Come on, most guys hate karaoke.”
“Not all, and trust me, you have an in on this one. Didn’t you say he loves eighties movies?”
“Yeah, so?”
“Girl, did you even look at the Underground’s calendar?”
“No.” I shrugged. “They have karaoke every second Saturday of the month, and we go every time. Why would I bother?”
Tessa shook her head at me, then whipped out her phone, tapping a few times before turning it to face me.
This karaoke night, inexplicably, had a theme. A garish, neon-colored graphic proclaimed tonight’s event dedicated to eighties music.
“Tessa, you are an evil genius. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you orchestrated this.”
She put her phone away and settled back in her seat with a smug grin. “It’s perfect. You have to admit, you couldn’t have planned it better yourself. Even if he doesn’t want to sing—which would be lame, let’s be clear—he’s still going to have fun. And then you two have a chance for a little mm-mm.” She shimmied her shoulders and gave me a meaningful look.
“Okay, I’ll invite him, but I’m not doing it to have sex. It’s too soon, Tessa.”
She reached across the table to clink her champagne glass with mine, and after we both took our sips, she smiled. “Famous last words, my friend.”
* * *
