“If you were Lily?” Casey asks, and I nod.
Abruptly, she stands, head swiveling as she searches theroom. “Yeah, so.” She scoops up my shirt from the floor at the foot of the bed and my running shorts that somehow ended up on top of the dresser near the door. She tosses them onto the blanket in front of me. “Last night was fun.” While striding toward her bathroom, she adds over her shoulder, “Text me if you want to hang out later.” She taps the frame twice before latching the door shut behind her.
“Are you fucking serious?” I burst into shocked laughter.
She cracks the door open and peers out. “Yeah?”
“Wow!” And I’m still laughing. “I have never felt so thoroughly dismissed in my life.”
Casey snorts. “Well, to be fair, if you were Lily, you’d have left last night. And on the rare occasion you do stay the night—because you’re either too drunk or too lazy to go home in the middle of the night—you’d be up, dressed, and telling me you’ll text me later the second you hear me stirring in bed.”
“Well, damn,” I say. “What do you say when you stay the night over her place?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. I never have.”
“Really?”
She shakes her head while walking back over. She plops down on the mattress and takes a big bite out of her donut.
“How come?” My mind is whirling, still trying to grasp this concept of the morning after casual sex. I don’t know what I thought Lily and Casey did, but it definitely wasn’t the aloof brush-off parting of ways.
“I like my own bed.”
“It is nice,” I concede.
Casey gives me a sly grin. “So. Boat day?” She finishes her donut and spots frosting on her finger. Her tongue comes out as she slowly licks then sucks the frosting clean off.All I can see is the way she sucked my arousal off that very finger last night in a very similar way, and I lose my ability to breathe. There’s a demanding ache between my thighs, and they squeeze together instinctually. And,fuck, I’m still so wet.
“Dakota?” she prompts, amusement dancing in her eyes and …wait.Did she do that shit on purpose? I’m going to kill her.
“Oh, shit. I forgot our coffees. Hold on.” Casey bounces up but catches herself in the doorway. She looks back, a teasing grin on her lips. “Think about it.”
I roll my eyes. All I can think about is what her tongue can do, and her annoying ass knows it.Fuck. I know I’m new to casual onetime hook-ups, but I’m pretty sure we’re not supposed to flirt afterward. Because that was flirting, right? It definitely feels like flirting.
My phone dings, and I glance at it, expecting a text from one of my friends, but it’s not. My heart drops to my stomach. Nina posted on Instagram. I open it immediately, because of course I do, and it’s a photo of the two of them. Jamie’s stupid home-wrecking face is smiling wide at the camera. She’s wearing a pair of black sunglasses, the morning sun shining in the top right corner of the frame. Nina is wrapped around Jamie in a tight hug. Their intimacy stings, but it’s the expression on her face that crushes me.
Nina’s not looking into the camera. She’s staring at Jamie, and it’s her face, all soft and sincere, as she looks at Jamie with so much love and adoration that it sends waves of nausea through me. My chest is tight. I stare, frozen, at her expression. I don’t realize I’m crying until tear drops splash onto my phone screen.
“Hey. What’s wrong?” Casey asks. She’s standing at thefoot of the bed, her face pinched in concern with a coffee cup in each hand.
“Nothing. It’s nothing.” I rub my temple, exasperated. “Just. A new Nina post.”
Casey’s groan is venomous. “What did her bitch ass do now?”
I scowl at my best friend and debate showing her my phone—I don’t want any more snide comments—but reluctantly show her the screen.
She narrows her eyes then frowns. “This was just posted, like not even a minute ago. Wait, do you have her notifications turned on?”
I recoil, hiding my phone against my chest, but the damage is done.
“Oh, Dakota.” She takes a sip of her coffee. She sets mine down on the nightstand and scratches her head in thought. “Okay. Scrap the boat day. We’re going on a hike.”
I cock a curious eyebrow. “A hike?”
“Yep. Somewhere where cell reception is spotty, and you can enjoy the peace of the outdoors.”
Casey and I both share the joy of walking nature trails. While she takes backpacking trips anywhere from three to seven days a couple times a year, I settle on a five-mile walk as my max. I love nature, but not overnight.
“I don’t know, Case.”
