"Except you, apparently." Jenn drops onto the stool next to Rosalie and steals my coffee and takes a sip without asking. "Hi. I've heard a lot about you."
Rosalie looks at her for a moment. "Have you?"
“She knows everything, Rose. You can turn off your lawyer brain.”
She’s been looking at Jenn with slow, assessing attention since she walked in. Like the woman is running a background check in real time.
"She does?" Rose tilts her head. "That's surprising."
"He told me after we had a pretty heavy make-out session, but we've decided to just be besties." Jenn takes another sip of my coffee. "Besties who apparently interrupt each other's dates like littlepussies."
Rosalie’s head falls back with a loud cackle.
“Still upset about that, are we?”
“Yes. You almost cock blocked me.”
“Almost?” I ask with a smirk and take a sip from my new cup of coffee.
“Almost. God, was he hung.” She takes her forearm and drops it on the counter. “Like a horse, Bennet. Ahorse.”
"I like her," Rosalie giggles.
"Of course you do," I deadpan.
Gerald jumps onto the counter, which nobody invited him to do, and sits between Rosalie and Jenn like he's moderating.
"Okay." Jenn spins her stool to face me fully, the horse cock date situation apparently filed and closed. "Tell me everything about last night. How did it go after you called me?"
I look at the two of them. United, caffeinated, and locked in. "I’m going to need something stronger than coffee.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
BENNET
It's been four days since I've seen Blaire. But we've fallen into a text rhythm all week that I've started looking forward to in a way I'm choosing not to examine too closely.
After an hour of watching Rosalie and Jenn bond over their shared amusement at my expense Tuesday morning — exchanging numbers, planning brunch, finishing each other's sentences like they'd known each other for years — I'd seen and heard enough and kicked them both out.
Gerald stayed. Nobody asked him.
I'd just walked into a meeting when my phone went off.
Blaire: I had some wildly inappropriate dreams about that tiramisu last night.
I smiled but didn't respond. Spent the entire meeting thinking about what I should say when I did, which meant I absorbed approximately nothing of what was discussed.
The rest of the day blurred between back-to-back meetings and a charity appearance that is technically part of occupation bad boy rehabilitation. By the time I made it back to my apartment, I was exhausted and wound tight.
I opened my phone to find another text. This one with a photo attached.
It was a full tiramisu, fork mid-bite, Blaire’s mouth open and ready to take it. I sat up on the couch and stared at it forlonger than I should have. It wasn't sexual, not technically, but that mouth and that spoon and the deliberateness of the angle had me setting the phone face down and picking it back up twice before I read the message underneath it.
Blaire: Couldn't help it. I ordered a whole one. Going to gain ten pounds before the weekend. Hope you had a reason to smile today.
I stared at that last line for the better part of an hour.
Hope you had a reason to smile today.
