“Sure is.”
Ping.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and looked at it.
Gallan:I’m about to send a search party for you, and Shane with a loaded pistol for Alejandro. You better come to me if you want your Dom alive.
I cackled.
“I gotta go, Ken. Things are getting serious here; he’s texting life-threats now.”
My best friend laughed. “Well, you better shoo away, then. The last thing we need is the heartthrob Gallan Underwood throwing a hissy fit because his girlfriend was busy shacking up with an imaginary sex God. Now, wouldn’t that be a smashing headline of this up-and-coming decade?”
I shook my head around a grin. “Alright, weirdo, I’m out. You good with delivering the coffee to Aubrey without me?”
She waved a hand before her. “I’m cool; you go please your Hollywood hottie. I’ve got Aubrey.”
We hugged once, and I then headed straight for Gallan’s new trailer, with chubby hippos wearing sparkly-pink tutus performing a well-orchestrated ballet in my stomach.
All those romance novels and movies that tell you how “butterflies” flutter in the heroine’s belly as she’s about to meet her guy? Yeah, that’s total BS. It’s the hippos, I’m telling you.
It’s always them.
Chubby, cute, willing to dance 24/7.
It’s them hippos.
Always.
