Doctor Dick? When the hell did I get that nickname? I bite back a chuckle.
“This couch and my ass have a longstanding relationship.” She rubs the leather like she’s petting a dog. “And no one—not even some smarmy surgeon from the Midwest—is going to wheedle his way in between my butt and this cushion.”
I take a sip of the tequila and try to look offended.
“I have no intention of butt wheedling. And smarmy?” I whisper into the bottom of the glass. “I was aiming for charming.”
She shakes her head slowly and says, “You missed.”
“Are you two done with the foreplay? I’d like to eat my burrito without wanting to vomit,” Meredith chimes in as she slides into a chair at the table in the corner.
Devon says yes and I say no. Meredith rolls her eyes.
“What’s the deal with you two anyway?” Mer takes a giant bite of the burrito and closes her eyes.
I look to Devon to respond but she is glaring at me. I can practically hear her voice saying,Don’t you dare, Dr. Dick.So I shrug and drop into the chair beside Meredith, who’s looking between us while making out with her burrito. She swallows and takes a sip of tequila.
“Alright. If you two aren’t gonna fess up, I’m gonna have to start throwing out guesses. Devon, did Jeff sleep with your mom?”
I laugh and Devon pulls her boot off the coffee table and makes her way over to join us.
“Not yet,” she answers seriously.
“Alright, then he looks like that guy who seduced you that night at Woody’s then had his friend steal your purse while you made out in the bathroom,” Mer says lifting her chin.
Devon looks at me. “Holy hell. He does look like that jerk! Man, could he kiss, though. He did this thing with his tongue…”
She tilts her head as her voice trails off and she smiles up at the ceiling. I rub a hand over my face and wait for the next attack.
“I give up. I know you have a thing against doctors, but this is something else, Dev. You’ve been avoiding him like he’s an airborne STD?—”
“Would it still be sexually transmitted if it’s in the air?” I ponder aloud, but they ignore me. I might as well keep sipping my tequila and watch the show. But I’m too curious. “What’s her issue with doctors?”
Devon is giving Meredith the same warning look that she gave me just moments ago. Mer looks down at the ruins of her meal and pushes a few beans to the side of the wrapping.
“Nothing,” she says. “Devon just has some—you know—rules.”
“Doesn’t everyone?” Devon asks.
I shake my head and she looks to Meredith for support. Her expression says fat chance.
“Come on. You might not talk about them, but you have rules. Like no having sex on the first date?—”
Meredith laughs. Loudly.
“Fine. Then, no relationships with a friend’s ex.”
I nod. That’s fair.
“Tell me more about these rules,” I say leaning toward her. I’m curious in a way that should trigger an alarm. But apparently my warning system is broken.
Devon shakes her head and presses her lips together.
“It’s not like they are written down somewhere. It’s just—like—loose guidelines I follow for myself, for work and stuff. Like grade all tests the day they’re taken. Keep a master notebook in case a kid misses a day. Etcetera and so on,” she explains while she studies my face for a reaction. I don’t give her one.
“I’m not talking about your teacher rules. I’m talking about life rules. And they most certainly are written down,” Meredith corrects. Devon’s forehead crinkles as she watches Mer stand up and walk to the kitchen.
“No they aren’t. That would be overkill. It’s not like I’m Moses walking around with his tablet thing.”
