“Yeah,” I admit, scratching at my bare chest. “Well, except for the part where I woke up to—” Miraculously, I manage to stop running my mouth before I blurt out what I witnessed in the wee hours of the morning. Zane doesn’t need to hear those details. And since I’m not usually known for my restraint, I mentally reward myself with five gold stars.
Apparently, though, I don’t need to say the words in order to convey the meaning. The kid’s eyes go wide as he fills in the blanks, and then he shocks the hell out of me by laughing his ass off.
“Oh, my god,” he says, stepping off the treadmill. “Did you catch them?”
The surprises just keep coming. “You know Van and Josie sneak down here?” I ask.
“Uh, yeah,” he says. “I’m not dumb. And I let them because it’s way better than walking in on them in the laundry room when they think they’re being sneaky. I’ve made that mistake more than once.”
“I can see that,” I agree. “Speaking of sneaking, can you help a guy out? I’m kinda stranded down here, and I’ve got no clue where my clothes are.”
“No problem. I’ll be right back.”
When he’s halfway up the steps, I start crawling around on the floor in search of my phone. I find it and one of my socks afew feet away from the bean bag that served as my bed last night. My slides are under the couch, and after I root around a little longer, I find my jeans in a pile by the pool table. As soon as I reach for them, though, I know it’s a lost cause. They’ve turned a pinkish purple color and they smell like cherry Jell-O. As I fish my car keys out of the pocket, a memory comes flooding back. I was trying to pour the leftover punch into a pitcher, but ended up spilling it all over myself.
I was pissed when it happened because I love those jeans. But about a minute after Viv peeled them off me, I couldn’t think of a single regret in the history of my life.
That’s because she took her dress off and immediately erased my bad mood.
The squeak of sneakers on the tile floor lets me know Zane has returned, and I’m grateful when he hands me a clean set of clothes. The blanket I’ve got wrapped around my waist is doing the Lord’s work right now because even a five second trip down memory lane has me wishing Viv had spent the night. Or at least left a fucking note.
It’s possible that she texted, but I haven’t checked my messages, so I don’t know for sure.
“Thanks,” I say, holding the blanket in place with one hand and taking the borrowed clothes with the other.
“Don’t stress about sneaking out,” Zane calls over his shoulder as he walks across the room and hops back on the treadmill. “The coast is clear. Van and Josie took a bunch of stuff over to JT’s place. I guess they got a ton of gifts yesterday, and they wouldn’t all fit in his car. They took Iris with them, and Milo and Tillie are at a birthday party, so you’re good.”
I thank the kid for the forty-seventh time because he’s doing me a solid, then I head up the basement steps and stop by the kitchen to swipe a banana off the center island. I’m starving, so I peel it in two seconds, and polish it off in three bites. I leavethrough the front door and shake my head when I don’t see my car by the curb. It takes a few seconds for me to remember that I parked two streets over because Viv figured if Maggie and JT spotted my car, it’d give away the surprise.
Viv.
Damn, I want to see her again, and lucky for me, it’s a question of when, not if. Our besties are practically married to each other, and they’re having a baby together. That means I’m definitely going to see her sooner rather than later, and if she’s up for it, we can pick up right where we left off.
Ok, I don’t technically remember exactly where we left off, but I’m pretty sure Viv had her thighs clamped around my head at one point, and that seems like the perfect starting place for round two.
And also for rounds three, four, five, and six.
For round seven, we might need to get a little creative, but we’ll jump off that cliff when we get to it.
And I can’t wait to get to it.
Last night was incredible, and if my gut feeling is right, it’s only going to get better from here.
2
Viv
PRESENT DAY
“Breathe in, and let the air flow naturally through your body. Keep your breath steady as you move into Tree Pose. Plant your right foot onto the mat as you bring your left up to meet your right knee.” I do my best to keep my voice steady as I say the words I’ve uttered at least a hundred times now. Leading a yoga class is a lot calmer and quieter than leading a cheer squad, but I love it.
Right now, though, I’m finding it hard to stay focused, so I remind myself to stick to the script, and that means ignoring the hot guy in the second row. And ignoring the unmistakable bulge in his leggings.
Yes, his leggings. Mickey insists on coming to my class whenever his schedule allows, and he insists on wearing the tightest pants possible.
I don’t make a habit of commenting on what people in my class are wearing, or even noticing, for that matter. But Mickey isn’t just somebody who shows up to practice yoga with me a few times a week. He’s my best friend.
We met about a year ago because Maggie, my OG best friend—and the girl I consider my sister—met and fell in love with JTNorris, the star goalie of our school’s hockey team. Mickey and JT had been friends and teammates for years and were attached at the hip, as all great bestie duos are. This is where things could have gotten tricky. If Maggie and JT were lesser people, they might have ditched Mickey and me in favor of their budding romance.
