Mabel
Danny, I’m serious.
Danny
So am I, Mabes. You’re acting ridiculous. It’s one night. Go, play some poker, have a few drinks and relax. What’s the worst that could happen?
Sighing, I hit the call button next to Danny’s name and wait as the phone rings three times before my best friend answers.
“Mabel, there is an oiled-up stripper in the next room frothing at the mouth to give me a lap dance. This better be really good.”
“I had a crush on him, Danny.”
“On my oiled-up stripper? Honey, he’s gay.”
“No.” I let out an exasperated breath. “I had a crush on Ryder. Like, for years.”
“Mabel. What part of ‘I have an oiled-up man in the other room’ are you not understanding?”
I bite my tongue, holding back a scream.
“Danny! You’re not listening. I just said I had acrush on Ryder. A real crush. Like, the kind of crush that…crushes you.”
“Okay? The sky is blue, water is wet.”
Pulling the phone away from my ear, I stare at the screen for a moment.
“You knew?”
“Honey, the entire country knew. Every photo of the two of you taken before the age of fourteen, you’re staring at him with hearts in your eyes.”
“Great, love knowing that all my innermost secrets are privy to public opinion. I might as well self-publish my old diaries,” I mutter. The perks of growing up in the spotlight never cease to amaze me.
“What does this have to do with hanging out with Ryder tonight?”
Leaning back against the sink, I bring my thumb to my lips and chew on the nail. It’s a disgusting habit, and I know Danny would slap the finger from my mouth if he were here, but what can I say? It’s soothing.
“I just…I don’t know. I never got over it. I liked him so much, and all he ever did was pick on me. No matter how hard I tried to get him to see me as something more than a little kid he was stuck with, it never worked. And now we’re all grown up and I know I should be over it, but I’m not. Over the years, I’ve gotten good at this whole frenemy thing I’ve built between us. And you telling me you think he’s the one with the crush now? It’s confusing. I feel like I’m fourteen years old all over again.”
There’s a long pause, and then a sigh comes through the other side of the phone.
“Mabel, honey. I love you more than anything. You know that. You’re my girl, my good-time guy, my sweet cheese. So please, hear me when I tell you this: You’re acting ridiculous. It’s like you’ve tied your own hands behind your back so you can’t remove the blinders you put on yourself and see what’s right in front of you. Babe, I know those pangs of first love pain run deep, but you’re not fourteen anymore. You’re a grown woman, and it’s time to put on your big girl panties and go hang out with Ryder. Or, you could continue to act like a brat and go back to your hotel room to sulk alone. Either way, just make a damn decision, get out of the bathroom and stop calling me, okay?”
It would seem that my friend’s tough love knows no bounds today.
If anyone else spoke to me this way, it would probably piss me off to no end. But Danny is Danny, and I know he’s right. There’s no point in arguing that I’m only acting immature because Ryder makes me feel immature. There’s no point in continuing to blame my annoyance with the man on some decade-old hurt. So instead, I turn to face the mirror and look myself in the eye.
“You’re right,” I say. “I’m going to go out with Ryder, and it’s going to be fine. I mean, it’s poker at The Bellagio. What really is the worst that could happen?”
7
JUST WHEN I THINK YOU CAN'T GET ANY HOTTER
RYDER
“Okay, so I want to flop?”
“No. The flop cards are the three that the dealer places face up in the center of the table after we make our first bets.”
