‘I really hope someone did get that on film,’ I said, marvelling at my friend as the man stalked back through the crowd and disappeared into his house. ‘You’re incredible.’
‘No one tells my friend to shut up and look pretty,’ she replied as we shuffled triumphantly back to the pool house.
CHAPTER EIGHT
After sitting in traffic for the best part of two hours, we rolled into Suzanne’s driveway with three things I didn’t have when I left: a very sore, very red ring around my midriff, a thousand dollars in cash and a newfound respect for Ariel’s desire to trade her fins for feet.
‘I can’t believe he gave us a bonus to go away,’ Bel said, cranking up the handbrake. ‘What a dream job.’
Tearing my eyes away from the cash in my hands, I gave her a questioning look. ‘Apart from where we nearly died?’
‘I don’t think you understand how much money I don’t make. I would take a brush with death for a four-figure cash bonus any day of the week.’
‘I would give it back to see you threaten to sue him again,’ I replied, stuffing the ten one-hundred-dollar bills into my handbag. A thousand dollars took up less space than I would have hoped. ‘You were incredible.’
She looked hugely proud of herself, and rightly so. ‘We should go out and celebrate. We got paid, baby!There’s this great rooftop bar downtown, awesome views, cutest guys. What do you say?’
The red ring around my belly burned inside and out. ‘What about Ren?’ I asked.
‘Not for me,’ she grinned, punching me in the arm. ‘For you! What’s a vacation without a little holiday romance?’
Rubbing my stomach, I shook my head. ‘I don’t think so. One-night stands aren’t really my thing.’
‘Then keep him for two nights.’
You couldn’t fault the woman’s logic.
‘Let’s say casual sex in general,’ I replied. ‘Not for me. The thought of jumping into bed with someone I’ve just met doesn’t do it for me. There has to be more to it than that.’
‘So you’re sapiosexual?’ she suggested. ‘Or demisexual?’
‘I’m not sure I know what demisexual is, so let’s not step on anyone’s identity,’ I replied, squeezing the end of my still-wet ponytail. ‘I like sex but I like it best when I know and trust the other person well enough to relax and enjoy myself. Going home with a stranger doesn’t sound like a good time. I’d spend the whole time stressing out about what they were thinking, whether or not I was doing it wrong, which diseases I needed to get tested for the morning after.’
‘Wow, I didn’t think they still made people like you,’ Bel said with genuine but kind surprise. ‘It doesn’t have to be that deep, Phoebe. Sometimes sex is just sex, a fun activity for two or more consenting adults.’
I gulped.
‘Two or more?’
‘OK, you’re not ready for that,’ she acknowledged. ‘But you do know sex is allowed to be a no-strings thing, right?Yes, Y2K is back but it’s really the fashion we’re interested in, not the attitudes. There will be no slut-shaming on my watch.’
‘Love it for everyone else,’ I said, giving a double thumbs up in agreement. ‘Doesn’t mean it’s for me.’
Bel shrugged, holding up her hands in surrender. ‘No, totally, everyone’s on their own journey. Sex is great cardio though, trust me, I’m a trainer. Nothing works off calories like using a willing partner as a human dildo.’
‘You have such a way with words,’ I replied, clutching at my imaginary pearls as she honked with laughter. ‘I can’t believe you think you need help writing a love letter.’
‘You see? You’re so funny, you’re like the funniest person I ever met. The men here would eat you up.’
‘And that’s a good thing?’
‘Can be,’ she said. ‘If they’re good at it.’
‘I think you’re confusing men looking for sex with literally anyone else alive,’ I said, ignoring her suggestive eyebrow dance. ‘I’ve seen the women around here – they all look like they’re sixteen and think flesh-toned cycling shorts and a crop top constitute a complete outfit. They’re hot, Bel, properly, objectively hot. I am a pale, pasty, failed mermaid who considers the return of low-rise jeans to be a crime against humanity.’
She leaned her head back against the headrest, lips pursed, eyes narrowed. ‘There’s a lot of different kinds of hot. Last time I checked, there wasn’t a regulatory committee that agrees on one single, official definition.’
‘I think you’ll find there is,’ I scoffed. ‘It’s called the internet and it convenes daily.’
