I extend my right hand toward her, and she places her hand in mine, shaking it gently. “Well, thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’m sure she will have a wonderful birthday.” She glances over toward the driveway and then says softly, “Umm, I should probably get going. I don’t want to be late.”
“Right.” I clear my throat again, then step down onto the paved walkway. “Well, thank you again.”
I make my way across the lawn, calling to the girls to follow me inside. I refuse to let myself turn around to watch her get into her vehicle, but my ears don’t miss the slam of the car door or the engine as it turns over, nor do I allow myself to watch her drive away. I barricade myself on the inside of the door. Make a point tonotlook out the window as I hear her car tires on the gravel of the driveway.
It isn’t until I set the cake down on the kitchen counter and grab a beer from the fridge that I realize I hadn’t even gotten Princess’s real name.
Three
Louise
“Iswear to God, Liv, I’ve never been so embarrassed in my entire life. Just full on—” I cup my hand, pantomiming how I’d assaulted my ridiculously hot new neighbor, “—fondledeverything.”
Alivia, one of my best friends, cackles from beside me. I closedBliss Gardenhalf an hour ago and now it’s just the two of us sitting around one of the table-top firepits in handcrafted Adirondack chairs, glasses of wine balanced on the armrests. The early September evening is just chilly enough to warrant a thick, warm sweatshirt that I have my hands curled up into the long sleeves. I’d sent out an SOS and she’d come out to sit with me through my shame, but she can’t stay long, since she’dleft her kids with a babysitter because her ex is in jail… again. Willow, our other best friend, is on her way, too.
Liv’s blonde hair falls in crazy, haphazard ringlets around her head, over her shoulders and down her back as she shakes her head at me. “I’m dead,” she wheezes through her laughter. “And you swore in front of his kids?”
Burying my face in my hands that are covered in the long sleeve cuffs, I groan miserably. “Yes,” I mumble into my hands, the sound muffled. “Full on F bombed in front of three little girls.”
“Just how hot is this guy?” she asks, pulling her legs up so she’s sitting cross legged in the wide chair. I drop my hands. Her petite frame makes the chair look oversized.
“I should probably not even bother unpacking and just find a new place to live, because I can’t ever look that man in the face again level of hot,” I whine. “There wasa lotto hold onto, Liv. Like,good lord. He has a monster in his pants. And Igrabbed it.”
“Well, it’s not like it was intentional,” she counters, still chuckling, swiping under her eyes to wipe away the tears of mirth.
“But I’m supposed to live next door to this guy!”
“Yeah, so? It was an accident. Brush it off. Be the cool cucumber we all know you are and just roll with it. And, you know, just try not to grab his monster penis again—”
“Good God, what conversation did I just walk into? Whose monster penis did Lou grab?”
Willow, the third in our bestie group, walks toward us through the dark and sinks into an Adirondack chair next to me. Her light brown hair is tied up with a length of satin ribbon in a half ponytail at the back of her head. She’s wearing a pair of light wash jeans that hug her hips perfectly, and a cropped sweatshirt that leaves just a hint of her middle peeking out between them.
“Her hot new neighbor’s,” Liv supplies, taking a sip of her wine. Willow sits forward, pouring herself a glass from the bottle sitting on the table in front of us.
“Oooh, you finally met the last neighbor? How hot is hot?”
“You know the new music video forWorst Way? Riley Green came to life in the form of my new neighbor, withjust a sprinkleof Jason Kelce for bulk,” I mumble around my wine glass, pinching my face up. “Like Brandon Sklenar in 1923.”
“Ohmygod shut up!” Willow exclaims, sitting up in her seat. “Your new neighbor is Hottie Dad from the flower shop?!”
“Wait, the one that got the roses for his girls?” I ask. She nods excitedly, a wide grin splitting her face. I slump in my seat. I remember Willow telling me about him.
Of course he’s recently divorced and grieving. All the hot ones are eithercompletelyunavailable, or emotionally unavailable.
Sounds about right, considering my track record with dating in the last year.Perfectttt.
“He’s hot, for an older dude.”
“Oh, wait, how much older are we talking?” Liv asks, her eyes lighting up.
I shrug. “His oldest daughter looks to be maybe eleven or twelve? He’s got to be close to forty, if I had to guess?”
Willow nods knowingly, grinning behind the rim of her wine glass. “Older guys areso hot.”
I roll my eyes over at her. “You have to say that because Luck is old.”
