“If you say ‘because I’m engaged,’ I swear I’ll knock that drink out of your hand,” Maya warns.
I clutch my Long Island closer.
“What would I even say? ‘Hey, sounds great. I loved watching that girl get helicoptered with you last night. Want to get ice cream?’”
They all lose it laughing.
“Wait—what’s ‘helicoptered’ mean again?” Alex asks.
“It’s when they use a flogger in an X pattern,” I explain. “On the butt. Guy or girl. Did I just explain a sex term to you?”
Maya nods, mock-somber. “You’ve grown so much. I’m proud.”
I blush. “You’re not helping.”
April leans in. “Just be direct. Learn from my mistakes. Guys are dumb. Say what you want. I’m just gonna say it—Thor was the hottest guy there.” Then, after a moment, she adds, “Aside from our guys, of course.”
“Your guy isn’t even here,” I tease.
“True,” she laughs. “Anyway. Why wasn’t Thor the one doing the paddling? That other guy had a paunch. Thor looked like he could do laundry on his abs.”
I crack up. “So what, I just text him, ‘Hey, come over and paddle me?’ That’s subtle.”
Alex bites her lip. “Faith. It’s your Rumspringa.Get after it.”
“I have an idea,” I say, handing Alex my phone.
I take my hair tie, wrap it around my wrists like cuffs, and let my hair fall in front of my face. I’m not about to send a full-face pic to a guy I just met.
“Okay, snap one.”
Maya slides my engagement ring off my finger without a word.
I check the photos. One catches just the edge of my grin and the shape of my chin through my hair. It’s sexy, but not too much.
I type out a message to go with the photo.
Luna: Having a fun Sunday with friends. What are you up to?
I hover my thumb over the send button, my heart beating a little too fast.
Then I send it.
I’m not expecting an immediate reply—but it comes.
Thor: I see you :) Looks like you love Holloway’s Hideout, too.
Luna: You see me… how?
Thor: I just might be there right now. Or maybe not ;)
I press a hand over my heart, feeling it thump like crazy.
I glance around the room, casually sliding my engagement ring into my purse.
There are at least a hundred people packed into the standing room area alone, and I don’t catch anyone watching me. Just a blur of hats and drinks and jersey shirts.
Until I do.
