“C’mon, Liv. It’s not the end of the world.” Sienna’s voice pulls me from my thoughts.
“No. In fact, this would be a wonderful chance to keep hooking up with him.”
“What? I can’t do that!” I shriek.
Imogen cackles. “Darling, you can. You’re an adult and can do whatever you want. Including…wait, what’s his full name?”
“Why?”
“Name.” Sienna snaps her fingers at me. “Now.”
“Stanley Easton III. Tag.”
Imogen pulls out her phone and types away with a perfectly manicured finger. “Holy shit. I do not remember this man being this sexy last night.”
Sienna’s jaw drops and her eyes go wide as she stares at the image filling the screen. “Damn, Liv. I can’t imagine how good the sex was.”
Heat creeps up my cheeks. This is the last thing I need to be thinking about. How good things were with Tag.
Not just good.Great.God, it was the best sex of my life. I don’t need to tell these two. I will never hear the end of it.
When the server comes back around, we order small plates to share for our dinner.
Dumplings. Bao buns. Spicy tuna rolls.
All of our favorites.
“It’s okay, we know.” Imogen winks. “Your face says it all.”
“What? No, it doesn’t.” My hands fly to my cheeks, trying to hide the furious flush. I hate how my face gives me away.
“Give your poor sex-deprived friends all the details. We need them.” Sienna clasps her hands under her chin. “Please?”
“Please, please, please,” Imogen begs.
“Ugh, fine. It was incredible, alright?” I concede, dropping my voice to a low murmur to ensure no one around us hears. I don’t want to flaunt my sex life to anyone else but these two. And even with them, they have to pry it out of me.
“I knew it.” Imogen is preening. “I bet he made you come more than once.”
“Multiple.” I know it’ll egg her on, but I do it anyway.
“If I didn’t love you so much, I’d hate you,” Imogen says. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve had an orgasm without the use of a vibrator.”
“You know there are apps for that, right?” Sienna asks.
“Weren’t you telling us last week that you’ve had bad luck?” I ask.
“Maybe if there were Tags on these apps, I’d be more satisfied.”
“Shush,” Imogen quiets her. “The better question is, are you going to see him again?”
“I can’t. It would be unprofessional of me to do so.”
I know, before I even finish the sentence, the pushback I’m going to get from these two. I love them dearly, but they are so predictable.
“Why is it unprofessional?” Sienna asks, swirling her wine glass between her fingertips. “You don’t report directly to him, do you?”
“No,” I answer.
