“Who cares about that, JoJo!” Adri cuts in. “I want to know how you can work so closely with a guy you used to sleep with and sorta date. You literally know what his dick looks like.”
“And tastes like,” Jo adds unhelpfully.
Mallory gags. “Jeez. That’s my non-biological brother you’re talking about.”
“Not sorry. I’m expressing my respect for Shay, that’s all.” Adri beams like a proud mother. “I’m in awe of your ability to not fall back into bed with him.”
I shrug. “It’s easy. I refuse to let one man take my career down for a fun night.”
I’ve successfully kept my head down and heart on lock for nearly two years. That isn’t going to change because things are somewhat decent between us.
“According to college Shaylene, he’s one well-endowed man.” Adri lifts my chin to close my mouth when I glare at her. “Don’t be mad at me for having a good memory.”
“Well-endowed?” Mallory screams. “Did we transport back to the fifteenth century?”
TMI has never been a thing for The Quartet, and my stomach is in stitches when Jo pulls to a stop near the tee box. Mallory and Adri stay seated, but I follow Jo. From here, I can barely make out the red flag that signifies the hole. It’ll take at least thirty attempts to get there.
“I want to try something. Let’s treat this like baseball.” The club Jo hands me looks like a high-tech sledgehammer, but she calls it a driver and grabs her own. “I wouldn’t say they’re necessarily similar, but humor me. Baseball’s swing plane is horizontal, but golf’s is vertical, like on a tilted circle. Got it?” I nod, and she continues. “Rotate your hips and keep your eyes on the ball. You don’t need to be a pro to impress Garrett. You just need to make contact.”
As she demonstrates the swing in slow motion, things start to click. It’s different from baseball, yes, but maybe I can hit this damn ball. Even if it’s only a few feet.
“You’re a good coach, Jo. Thanks for taking a study break for me.”
Blue eyes roll in that endearing way. “Anytime. I’ve missed your face.”
When she steps back, an imaginary tilted circle appears around me. The practice swing is shaky, but I mostly stay on the surrounding lines. Aligning myself with the ball, I pull my arms back and bring them around quickly. My weight shifts to my front leg, and when I hear the sweetclick, I leap into the air.
“I told you I could do—” I start, but when I turn around, I choke on my pride. It’s hard to be a turd when my three best friends are celebrating my first successful stroke. I don’t even care how far it went.
I’m just happy to be here with them.
Nine holes of golf shouldn’t take four hours, but four chaotic women and one golf cart was enough to disturb an entire community.
Soothed by an Epsom salt bath and a bowl of dark chocolate chips, I fall onto the sectional. The thought of driving to Slim Jim Batting is too much, so I’ll work from home tonight.
I grab my phone.
Me
Waiting on Chinese food. You alive?
A bubble appears as I curl into the multicolored quilt.
Marshmallory
Barely. Caught a charley horse so Kenneth is rubbing my calves. How are you?
Not great. The silence of the house is too loud. As a kid, I bounced between Mom’s and Dad’s. It wasn’t until I moved into this house with Mallory that I understood what a real home should feel like. Four walls don’t make a place home, but what she brought into the space did. Clanging dishes at the crack of dawn. Vibrant pieces of art she found at thrift shops on every wall. Oldies blasting from her room at all hours. Lively plants in every corner. With her gone, I haven’t been able to make it mine. I haven’t wanted to.
Before I can respond, another text comes in.
Marshmallory
I miss you. Sleepover next weekend?
I grin. She hasalways been able to read my mind.
Me
