Or chica kicked you in the balls and you’re lying in a gutter somewhere and she wasn’t as incredible you thought she was. BTW—In Italia now.
From: Matthew Walsh
To: Erin Walsh
Date: September 25 at 18:31 EDT
Subject: Not climbing Mt Washington
E–
Everything’s awesome.
M
I pulled another beer from the refrigerator when I heard my phone ringing, and answered without looking at the screen. Odds were high Lauren was calling to cancel or a sibling was in need of something completely unessential. “Hello?”
“Everything’s awesome? That’s all I get? It’s been ten hours, and I get a one-line response with zero descriptive details? Really, Matt?”
“But at least I know what it takes to get you on the phone.” Smiling at Erin’s ever-present piss and vinegar, I edged my hip on the counter and sipped my beer. “What would you like to know?”
“What does she look like? Give me a point of reference.”
I ran my hand through my damp hair, thinking. “She’s blonde, green eyes, twenty-eight, a little shorter than you, wears a lot of scarves—”
“Okay, scarves, that tells me everything. So you’rewithher now? You’re dating?”
“Do people still use that term?”
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Erin muttered. “Matt, you’re making it hard for me to tolerate you right now.”
“Why are you being such a bitch about this?”
“I’m not! I just think you’re getting a little carried away with chica—”
“Her name is Lauren,” I snapped.
“Okay, great, you’re getting a little carried away withLauren.I mean, come on, you hooked up with her and then went into meltdown mode this morning. Do you even know her birthday? Her favorite citrus fruit? These are the important things, Matt, and it would suck to realize after a few months that she loves pomelos and you’re all about tangerines. Take your pussy goggles off.”
I wanted—no, needed—Erin on my side. “I don’t ask you for much, E, and right now, I’m asking you not to analyze it. We’re just hanging out. That’s it.”
“All right,” Erin sighed. “But you better not—”
“I gotta go, E,” I interrupted as the doorbell rang. “I’ll keep you posted.”
“I want proof of this in the form of pictures! You and chica, ASAP!”
A towel knotted on my hips and a half-empty beer bottle in my hand, I swung open the door to find Lauren in a blue sequined dress that barely covered her ass. “Holy fuck,” I groaned.
Her eyes landed on my chest and then traveled lower, staring at the towel as she shut the door behind her. “Uh-huh.”
I leaned against the wall and polished off my beer, somewhat surprised she chose to show up at all. “Where are your pants, sweetness?”
“Where are yours?”
That bossy little mouth. I wanted to hate it, I wanted to shove my cock in it, but more than anything, I loved it.
Locking a hand on her elbow, I pulled her to me, and lifted the loaded tote and silver gift bags from her. We watched each other for a heavy minute, the air between us shifting, heating. And then we attacked each other. Our lips crashed together, urgent and hungry, as if we spent three years apart instead of three hours.
