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“You’d be surprised.”
“Does someone else write the column for you?”
She laughed, bumping into him again, her thigh rubbing against his and reminding him of how naked her legs were. “No,” she said. “I write it all by myself. That I can do, at least.”
“Which was your favorite column to write?”
“Hmm.” They stepped from the sidewalk to the boardwalk and Veronica seemed to get distracted by the sound of her heels on the wooden boards for a moment. Then she shook her head and looked up again. “Last year a mother wrote in to slut-shame the woman her adult son was dating. She said that this harlot was luring her son with free sex.”
“Oh, God,” Gabe groaned. “Poor guy.”
“I know. We can only guess at how much he was suffering. Anyway, I answered that letter, telling her that if she was disappointed in the behavior, then maybe she hadn’t raised her son very well. I also said there was nothing wrong with sex and to leave the girl alone. Pretty standard stuff. Except that I became friends with the harlot later.”
“Ha! Seriously?”
“It’s a small town. These things happen. I probably know the guy who fell in love with his sex doll, too, but please don’t tell me if it’s you.”
“I’d rather not talk about it, anyway,” Gabe said. “It’s over.”
“Oh, no! Did it fizzle out?”
He shrugged. “We tried to patch it up a couple of times.”
She tugged him to a stop, then leaned against a street lamp, wheezing with laughter.
He grinned as she wiped tears from her cheeks. “You okay?”
She shook her head, still struggling for air past her hysterical laughter.
“Was it that funny, or is it just the alcohol?”
“Both!” she gasped. Then groaned, “God, I must be a mess.”
He looked over her tearstained face and the mascara smudges beneath her eyes. “Nah. You look great.”
“Really?” She swiped at her pink nose.
“Really. Now, where are we going?”
“Right here,” she said, gesturing toward a three-story condo complex.
He grabbed her hand and pulled her off the lamppost to walk her toward the entry. “I only live one block over.”
“I’m not surprised. There are a lot of rentals around here.” She dug her keys from her bag and led the way to one of the ground-floor doors.
“I won’t come in,” he said for clarity’s sake. Even if he might have wanted to, she was way too drunk for him to feel right about it.
She stabbed her keys toward the doorknob several times. “Don’t worry. I didn’t think you wanted to.”
“Okay, because I— What? Why would you think that?”
She waved her free hand and the keys jagged two inches to the right. “I’m not that girl. I get it.”
“What girl?”
“You know.” She finally got the key into the hole, and when the lock turned, she gave a little cheer. She pushed the door open and then lurched in before spinning back to him. “I’m not going to try to jump your gorgeous bones, Gabe. You’re safe with me. I’m sexual kryptonite.”
“What?” he asked again, even more confused.
