Did I not tell him that? “I am. I told you, right?”
He shakes his head slowly. “Are you spending the night?”
“Yes. That’s the plan.” But I don’t really want to now. “You know the deal, chick flicks, wine, and bitching about men.”
“I’ll drop you off and pick you up in the morning.”
“Thanks. I’m going to go change then and pack an overnight bag. I need to be to her place by five.”
“I’m going to get some work done while you’re gone, then.”
I smile at him. I lean down and kiss his cheek. “Sounds good.”
Chapter Eighteen
“Men suck,”Jules says, drunkenly holding her wine glass up to mine.
“Most men suck,” I say in reply. What? I’m not about to group Billy in with her asshole ex.
“Oh my God. You’re in love.” She cackles. “Mostmen suck?”
I shrug. What can I say? I’m here to help her through this, not bad-mouth one of the good guys.
Suddenly, the tears start to fall. “I m-m-miss him so much,” Julie sobs.
“I know.” I pat her knee. “But hewassort of a douche.”
“I kn-know.” She sobs some more. “But he wasmydouche.”
I guess there’s something to be said there. He was definitely her douche.
“Maybe I should just call him.”
“No!” I say quickly. “Do. Not. Call him.”
“But….”
“No. You’re drunk. You’ll regret it tomorrow.”
“No, I won’t. I m-miss him.”
With a sigh, I take her wine glass from her and set it on the table. Placing my hands on her shoulders, I get her to focus on my words. “He slept with your sister.” Mind you, I don’t feel like I can really get on my soap box about that one since I slept with Billy. Oh, hell, of course I can, my situation was totally different. “He stole money out of your wallet a million times. Remember the time you—”
“I know. He was a terrible boyfriend, but I loved him.”
“Yes, you did. He didn’t deserve you. You want to know whodoesdeserve you?”
She nods then sniffles.
“A guy who doesn’t fuck around on you and who has a job.Anyjob.”
“You’re right. I know you’re right.”
I’m waiting for the “but” to come from her lips. But it doesn’t because her cell rings. As she picks the phone up, I look down to see who’s calling her at one in the morning. “It’s him,” she whispers, but she’s drunk, so it’s not really a whisper.
Just as I say, “Decline the call,” she answers.
“Hello?”
