Unfortunately,I’m out of tequila, which leads me to knock on Emory’s door. We used to live together in the cottage I rent from her father until she moved in with her fiancé, who lives next door. I knock again, but no one answers, so I grab the spare key from my purse and unlock the door.
“Hello?” I call, but it’s still silent. That is until I walk a few more steps and am met with the distinct sound of a bed thumping against the wall.
Of course. I should have guessed. Those two can’t keep their damn hands off each other.
I make myself at home, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and plopping down on the couch to look through my phone. As I check my socials, the thumping gets louder and more urgent until there’s a muffled cry and a lot of cursing. It’s quiet for a moment, and then a door creaks open, allowing me to hear footsteps advancing toward me.
“You should probably be more gentle,” I say. “You know, so you don’t hurt the baby.”
Luke, presumably on his way to the kitchen, spins around and nearly walks into the wall.
“Jesus, fuck, Allie.”
“What?” I ask innocently.
“You scared the shit out of me. What the hell are you doing?”
“I need to borrow a cup of tequila,” I deadpan, holding out the mug I brought for this purpose.
“Allie, that key is for emergencies.” He shakes his head before calling out to his fiancée. “Em, we have a situation.”
“Thisisan emergency,” I mumble as the door creaks again and my best friend, looking freshly fucked, walks into the living room. She’s about five months pregnant and has the cutest little bump. That is, if you find things like that cute, which I don’t.
“What’s wr—Allie?”
“The one and only.” I move my hand up, mimicking a half-bow.
“What are you—oh, the interview.” She looks at Luke, who is both shirtless and not amused. “I’m sorry, babe. I need to take this.”
“I figured.” He pushes a water bottle into her hand. “Remember what the doctor said. You need to stay hydrated, Em. Especially after…”
“I think we get the picture,” I interrupt. Normally, their sickeningly sweet relationship doesn’t bother me, and maybe it’s just that I haven’t been laid in months, but I can’t stomach it right now.
“Exercise,” he finishes.
Emory blushes and takes the bottle from him, but before she can turn around, he places his hands on her cheeks and fuses his mouth to hers. She stands up on her toes and deepens the kiss for a second before pulling back. “That’s all you’re getting right now, Sir,” she giggles.
“Did you just—” Luke shakes his head as he backs up out of the living room. “You made your bed for later, baby. I hope you know that,” he calls as he retreats into the bedroom.
“I sure do,” she calls back before giving me a sympathetic look. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize for being happy, Em. I love seeing you thisway.” It’s not a lie. I love Emory like a sister, and she went through hell with her ex when we were in college. If anyone deserves to be utterly blissed out with a little baby bump and a fiancé who would walk on shards of glass for her, it’s Emory. Still, I can’t shake the feeling that I’ll never be in her shoes. It’s by design, of course. I call what I do dating, but it’s not really. It’s one-night stands dressed up in pretty date-night dresses.
“How did it go?” Emory’s voice jolts me from my thoughts.
“It went.”
Her eyes flood with sympathy. “What do you need?”
“Any chance you have tequila?” I ask, holding my mug up again. “I’m fresh out.”
“No.” She takes the mug from me and sets it down on the coffee table. Her face takes on the same unamused look Luke wore a few minutes ago. They are definitely spending too much time together.
“What? Just because you’re not drinking doesn’t mean there’s no tequila in this house.”
“There’s no tequila in this house,” she repeats.
“Ugh, fine. I’ll have a beer then.”
