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“It’s still a huge fucking change. And it’s a forever contract. Hell, I’m nervous just thinking about it, and I’m the most eligible bachelorette in Lawton Ridge. I’ll probably be single with four dogs by the time I’m forty.”

Her exaggeration makes me snort. “No, there’s Old Lady Annette and her thirteen cats. Speaking of, where’s Sassy?”

Everleigh is full-on laughing, the kind that makes her nose scrunch. “Annette was promiscuous back in the day, though. I heard stories of her breaking three different men’s hearts at once. Guess she realized she was too good for them. But if I ever get that many dogs, trust me when I say it’s a cry for help.” She gulps her wine. “Oh, Sassy’s sleeping on my bed. She was tired and put herself to bed.”

“Well, there’s no denying her name fits.” I chuckle, which feels good, considering the conversation we’re having.

“It sure does.” The room grows quiet except for the sound of Everleigh chewing popcorn.

“Robert met Tyler today,” I say. I don’t know what possesses me to even bring it up, but I need to get it off my chest.

Her eyebrow pops up, and she repositions herself with a smirk. “And?”

“And Robert asked if there had been anything between us in the past.”

“Oh, God.” She grins. “What’d you say?”

I bury my face in my hands and exhale, then look at her. “Well, I cut him off before he could fully ask, but I knew where he was going with it. So I didn’t technically lie, but I just didn’t tell him the truth.”

“Why not? Everyone has past relationships. He can’t get mad about that.”

“Because I think he’d be jealous and insecure about us working together. How fucking stupid is that, though? I mean, come on…” I turn my hand around, show her the ring, and she grins.

“That’s hilarious.”

I tilt my head at her. “No! It was awkward.”

“Well, maybe it’s time to come clean about your previous relationships. It’s not like he didn’t date a decade before you were even legal.”

I roll my eyes. “He’s not that old.”

“At least men get better looking with age while women have to put on under eye cream and slather ourselves in lotion to look young. Hell, if Leonardo DiCaprio showed up at my door, I’d give him the time of his life, and nothing would be off-limits. I’d let him draw me like a French girl any day of the year.” She releases a dreamy sigh, and I laugh at her Titanic reference.

“Point taken.”

“At least tell me the sex is mind-blowing. Like if he’s the best you’ve ever had, I’ll forgive his old man traditional values.”

I think about it. Sadly, I barely remember the last time we had sex.

Her mouth falls open when I take too long to respond.

“If it was monumental, you would’ve immediately answered with a fat, cheesy grin.” She frowns. “It’s mediocre at best, isn’t it?”

Heat meets my cheeks, and I hate the pitiful look she gives me. “I seriously can’t get anything past you, can I?”

“Are you kiddin’ me? We used to exchange diaries, remember? I especially loved your middle school entries about my brother.” She giggles.

“That was your idea!” I remind her, blushing at the memory.

“Yeah, and I learned a lot about you that summer. And you learned a lot about me too.”

I nod as I remember reading about how much she missed having her mother in her life. We connected, and it’s a bond that’s never been broken.

“Well, I’m not sure what to say, but sorry. You’re too young to be compromising hot as fuck sex. You deserve someone who’s not so vanilla—some hair-pulling, ass-smacking, throat-squeezing sex—Neapolitan would be more your style.”

“Jesus.” I chuckle at her descriptive version, but she’s not wrong. That sounds hot as hell. “You’re right. But I’m pretty vanilla too.”

“Maybe you are, but at least you have sprinkles. If a man offered to tie you up or handcuff you to the headboard, you wouldn’t say no. Amiright?”

She lifts an eyebrow at me, and I smirk.

“Regardless, it’s not that I’m some relationship expert or anything because you know how many men are knocking on my door.” She holds up her hand showing a big fat zero with her fingers. “But if the work lunches and dinners are too much, you should tell him, along with the other concerns you have. Honesty is the best policy. Unless it’s about dick size. You don’t want to inflate their ego.”

I snort. “You’re right, but I feel guilty telling him I don’t want to go to these client outings. Like I’m not being supportive, especially when he calls me his lucky charm. He gets so excited when he closes a deal with me there.”

Everleigh finishes her wine. “Welp, seems like you’ve got some decisions to make, my friend.” Her words are sincere, and there’s so much truth in them that it nearly slices me to the bone.

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