“Okay, so listen,” she says, sitting forward and flicking her ponytail like she’s about to present a TED Talk. “This week? Chaos.”
She launches into a rapid-fire rundown of every guy she’s found hot this week, complete with unsolicited details about who she’s slept with and where. There are zero filters—absolutely none. I swear the girl’s libido has no off switch. She wears the term “hoe” like a crown. I seriously did not need to know that the frat boy from her Forensic Anthropology class had rearranged her guts with his “eight-inch cock.”
“You’re such a hoe,” I mutter around a laugh, tossing a pillow at her.
“Proudly,” she fires back as she catches the pillow. She hugs it to her chest and smirks at me. “Now spill it, Rae. Who’s been on your mind?”
I fall quiet, gnawing on the corner of my straw. My Dutch Bros cup has been empty for a while now. I refilled it once with water but couldn’t be bothered to do it again—or toss it out—so now I’m just chewing the straw for something to do. Something to keep my hands busy. Something to focus on that isn’t the sudden heat creeping up the back of my neck.
“Oh my god,” Tessa gasps, sitting up straighter. “There is someone!”
“No, there’s not,” I lie, very, very poorly.
“Bullshit,” they say in perfect, suspicious harmony.
I shoot them a weak glare, trying to stall, but I know it’s over. “Fine. If Ihadto name someone…” I trail off, hoping the sentence dies there, but Khloe’s already leaning in like a bloodhound on a scent.
“Spill it, Rae.”
I hesitate. The name is already at the front of my mind, uninvited and stubborn. Emilio Perez. The man who treated me like I was deadweight. Who laughed at my goals like they were a joke. Who looked at me like I didn’t belong.
But also the man with golden eyes, forearms full of ink, a voice that made my stomach flutter in the worst (best) kind of way. And those lips…
“Emilio Perez,” I mumble, defeated.
Tessa’s eyebrows shoot up. “The grumpy hot cop?”
Fuck me for telling her about him. I knew it was going to bite me in the ass later, and yet I still spilled the beans about someone I found incredibly attractive, minus the damn attitude.
“He’s not hot,” I lie immediately.
Khloe shrieks, clapping her hands like she just won a bet. “Iknewit! Girl, your face betrayed youso fast.”
“I don’t even like him!” I argue. “He’s rude, arrogant, and treated me like I was a complete waste of time.”
“But would you climb him like a tree?” Khloe asks, deadpan.
“Absolutely,” I blurt before my brain catches up to my mouth. I freeze. “I mean—ugh. Maybe. I don’t know. My brain is broken.”
They lose it. The room explodes with laughter.
We talk for a while longer—about everything and nothing.Cluelessends, and we throw on the first season ofThe Rookieas background noise. We eventually polish off the rest of the snacks, so I let Max out. He makes a beeline for the patio door, and I throw it open so he can do his business. When he returns, he goes straight for the wrappers on the coffee table like a food-seeking missile. He noses through the mess until I catch him trying to chew a Taco Bell wrapper, then, thoroughly disappointed, he settles on the couch behind Khloe, his tail thumping lazily against the cushions.
I gather up the trash and clean up the table. When I finally sit back down, Max stretches and rests his head in my lap like it’s always been his place.
We continue to chat until the sky outside darkens and the soft buzz of fatigue starts to settle over us.
Tessa yawns and stretches. “I am hella tired, so I’m heading to bed,” she mumbles mid-yawn before disappearing down the hall and into her bedroom without another word.
Khloe lingers beside the couch, already half-curled under the throw blanket.
“I’m too tired to drive,” she mutters, voice thick with drowsiness. “I’m crashing here.”
I smile and rise from the couch, grabbing one of the pillows from the armrest. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
I toss it her way, and she catches it with a sleepy grin.
“Thanks, babe,” she says as she slowly gets up from the floor, clutching both the blanket and pillow to her chest.
