“Is that what Buzzfeed told you?” she says, smartass coming through thick. “Give me something real.”
“He was in a relationship for five years,” I say, offering the piece of information that’s been stuck in my head since he dropped me off. Xander doesn’t just date. He settles down. For the long haul.
“Xander’s a relationship guy,” she says, echoing my thoughts. “How long ago was this?”
“Ages,” I say, keeping it vague. I’ve already done the math. His rebound to five-year relationship has nothing to do with me. And I don’t need Em trying to manipulate information for shits and giggles. But this vague answer doesn’t stop her from asking more questions. If anything, it spurs her on.
“Why’d they break up?”
“Dunno.”
“Didshebreak up with him?”
“Dunno.”
“Didhebreak up with her?”
“Dunno.”
“What do you know?”
“He was in a five-year relationship with someone. He is not anymore.” I shrug.
“Sounds like a fun date.”
“It was bearable.” I realize I have not fulfilled my promise of juicy gossip. And so I decide to offer her the one morsel of gossip I know she’ll have no problem dining out on for a week.
“There is one other thing,” I say, slyly keeping my eyes forward.
“What?” she says, interest piqued.
“We kissed,” I say, sliding my eyes over to her. I decide to go for the PG-13 version. She doesn’t need to know Xander had methiscloseto fondling myself last night. And I would have, if it wasn’t for being interrupted by Ben.
“What?” Em says, whipping her head to me. “When?”
“The other night. In bed …”
“I don’t care. I don’t care. I don’t care,” she says, cutting me off after realizing she’s asking the wrong question. Here it comes.
“How was it?” she says, almost singing out the words in excitement. I don’t respond immediately. Last night’s indiscretion is all consuming in my memory.
The flicker in his eyes the moment he made the decision to kiss me. The way he cupped my face. How it started off slow. My inability to restrain myself as I pressed my entire body into his. How he pressed back. The electrical current that ran along every single nerve in my body.
“You’re rendered speechless,” she says, mouth open.
“I have speech,” I say, a little too shrill to come across like I wasn’t just daydreaming about said kiss. Em laughs at this. “This is me talking.”
“Always in denial,” Em says, pushing my buttons.
“I mean, of course it was fucking great. We know this,” I say, coming at it from a practical standpoint. “The reason I decided to spend the night with him eleven years ago was not because he’s terrible with his mouth, is it?”
This shuts Em up for all of a second. “We also know he’s helpful, open, and generous,” Em says, like she’s piecing together a profile of Xander. Not to hunt him down for heinous crimes like they would a serial killer. Something much more serious. A dating profile.
“How do we know this?”
“He drinks lattes,” she says, and this sends me over the edge.
“Buzzfeed.” We both shout at the same time, collapsing in laughter.
