“I’ll bet you a hundred bucks that Mr. Motorcycle is hung like a horse.”
My mouth is agape. “How would you know that?”
“He walks bow-legged.”
I snort. “Explain that theory.” She can’t. She’s so full of it.
“He walks like that to make room for his junk.”
And there I go choking on my wine again. Then, I throw my head back and laugh. “You’re so full of it, Laura.”
“Yeah, well, now it’s your job to prove me wrong.”
“So, if he’s hung, I owe you a hundred dollars?”
“It’s the least you can do after fucking a stallion.”
The giggle that erupts can’t be stopped. “A stallion?” The titters keep right on coming as the waitress appears at our table with a second drink for each of us and our appetizers just as the sound of engines rumble closer.
Popping a fried pickle into her mouth, she smirks and says, “He’s coming around again.”
“Oh boy.”
This time when he gets closer, I look over at him. He gives me a chin-lift, then speeds off. What in the heck? “What was that?”
“He’s got it bad.”
“No.” I shake my head as I choose the best pickle in the bunch.
“You love me, right?” Oh, I know what she’s up to. She’s going to make me do something I won’t want to do.
I shrug. “Sometimes.”
Ignoring my slight, she continues. “Make me a promise.”
“Ugh, Laura…” I’m about to say no when I notice Laura’s face. It’s serious. Dead serious. “What?”
“If that man tries to kiss you again. Let him.” She’s stopped eating and drinking. She’s just staring at me. “I mean it, Pru.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“No.” She holds up her hand, pinky extended. “Pinky promise.”
“Laura,” I whine. “Why?”
“Because I’m your best friend. I know you better than anyone on this planet, and youneedthat. Come on.” She wiggles her littlest digit.
“Fine.” I make an extra loud sighing sound. I wrap my little finger around hers. “I swear.” I doubt he’ll try again.
Pulling her finger back, she pops another pickle into her mouth and holds up her drink. “Now, what else is going on with you?” How does she know me so well?
“Travis called.”
“What did that fuckhead want?”
“To stop paying for my car.”
Laura’s head flops back as she releases an angry growl. “God, I hate that asshole.”
