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“I’ve been trying to call you for days,” I said the moment she answered. I’d just finished breakfast, and I was about to go for a walk when my phone rang. “What the hell?”
“Well, it’s nice to talk to you, too.” Elena snickered as I settled into the plush gray chair in my living room. “I know. I got all five of your voice mails. I’ve just been—” She made a noise that was halfway between a groan and a scream. “Work. Work is fucking crazy right now and I don’t think I’ve ever been so close to just quitting and running away to a little island.”
“Do it!” I exclaimed. “We could be roomies again!”
I looked around the room and tried to imagine Elena here. It felt like too small of a space for her larger-than-life personality.
“Believe me, after the last week, I’ve seriously considered it. But I highly doubt that tiny-ass town needs a criminal attorney.”
“No,” I agreed. Her law degree would be wasted here. There was very little crime here—something I was thankful for. “But I’m sure they wouldn’t mind a super-sexy resident novelist.”
Silence filled the line. She’d always said she could fill a bookstore with all the stories she had in her head.
She’d heard some weird shit in her line of work.
“That’s cute,” she finally replied. “But I am not you, Marin. I know you hold on to that memory of me saying I wanted to write a book, but that was all it was—a fleeting memory. Nothing. And besides, that was clearly before I discovered the real reason for living.” She paused for dramatic effect. “Money. And all the stuff I can buy with it.”
I rolled my eyes. “So, now, all those girlish dreams are, what? Bullshit? You’re just gonna work yourself to death so you can buy another Birkin bag?”
“Yes,” she answered firmly, but there was a hint of amusement in her tone. “Because I’m fucking worth it. And maybe one of these days, I’ll take my Birkin bag to Rome or Venice. Or put it in the passenger seat of a nice Porsche.”
“You’re—”
“Amazing? Yes, I know.”
I fought the need to roll my eyes again. I knew I’d never change her mind. She’d worked hard to get where she was, and she wouldn’t stop.
Even if it made her miserable.
“So, tell me about Hot Cop,” she said, segueing the conversation away from her.
I instantly blushed, remembering last night.
He’d made good on his promise, not only breaking my five-year dry spell, but doing it over and over again.
He was a magician.
“I’ll take the deafening silence as a good thing,” she said.
“So, so good,” I finally answered with a wide, toothy grin, pulling Macon’s warm hoodie closer to my body. It smelled like him, woodsy and clean. I dug my face into it and inhaled like a freaking crazy person.
“So, back to being a member of the Big O club?”
“Oh my God,” I answered.
I was always amazed by how brazenly unfiltered she was when it came to sex. Like it was as natural as breathing. And Elena never believed in depriving herself of… fresh air.
“Are you giving me a play-by-play or scolding me? I can’t tell,” she joked.
“Elena!” I yelled at her through the phone, but then gave in because I really, really needed to talk about it. All of it. “Okay, yes.Itwas amazing. He is amazing. I didn’t think I would ever be able to…” My words trailed off.
“Oh, sweetheart, I told you it had nothing to do with you. That sometimes, sex?—”
“We haven’t even had sex yet,” I confessed, “He just…” My cheeks blushed.
Talking about sex with Elena was still very strange. It used to be strictly off-limits. I had been married to her brother, and she did not want to know. Maybe that was why I’d found it so hard to tell her about Curtis.
“You haven’t?” She sounded surprised, but in a good way. “Huh. Well, I think I like Hot Cop a little more now.”
