I feel myself wince at her words, and then I watch her cover her mouth immediately. The thing is, it’s not her volume that has me bristling. Calla and Bridgette are taking turns giggling, and the rest of the girls are chatting. It’s noisy enough in here that I’m sure no one heard Maggie. That’s not the issue. What bothers me is her use of the word situationship.
And that’s weird.
I’m the self-appointed Queen of Situationships. I’m allergic to commitment. I’m all about casual.
And I’m graduating in two months.
And Mickey and I are just friends.
We are the very definition of besties-with-bennies.
And it was my idea in the first place!
So why is it bugging me now?
It clearly shouldn’t be. Maybe I need another cookie. Or a drink.
“You know what this party needs?” I ask without preamble. “Margaritas. Grab the blender, and I’ll?—”
“We have—Oh. My. God.” Maggie’s eyes are about to bug out of her head. “You actually like him.”
“Of course I like him,” I say, rolling my own eyes. “He’s one of my best friends.”
“But the feelings you have for him aren’t entirely platonic, are they?” Maggie asks, practically bouncing up and down with excitement.
“They’re not,” I agree. “They’re also sex-starved. God, the things that man can do with his fingers. And his mouth. His tongue is a national goddamn treasure.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” Maggie says, smiling as she lines up a stencil and begins to fill in the letters. “But I don’t think that’s the whole story. I think you like him. In fact, I think youlike him, like him.”
“I think you’re delusional. We’re friends, nothing more,” I say much too quickly. Maggie knows all my dead giveaways, so she just shakes her head and sighs.
I’m just glad she’s letting the subject drop. I’m all up in my head about Mickey, so I definitely need the reprieve. Maybe it’s a full moon? Or maybe it's been so long since I’ve had sex that that I’m getting turned on and twisted up over the smallest thing.
Or maybe just the mention of Mickey’s name has me remembering the way he stripped me down this morning before reaching for my hand and guiding me into the shower.
I can’t make sense of the way I feel, or the effect that Mickey has on me, and I don’t want to think too deeply about it. There’s no point in that. If things go the way I hope they will, I’ll be setting sail on an adventure in just a few months. That means I need to soak up all the fun while I can, and that’s exactly what Mickey and I are doing.
We’re having fun.
So much fun.
That’s all this is. It doesn’t have to be more. It can’t be.
It’s temporary, but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the hell out of it while it lasts.
12
Mickey
“Are you ready for the next question?” Viv asks.
The answer is no. She’s trying to help me study for a test I have in Exercise Psych tomorrow, but I wasn’t ready for the last five questions, and I’m not ready for this one, either. Part of the issue is that Viv is sprawled out on my couch and I’m too busy thinking about all the fun we could have if we both got naked. The other problem is that I don’t give a shit about Exercise Psychology. I guess I should, considering it’s a requirement for my major—or what I thought was my major. The truth is, I don’t have a passion for learning about this stuff. I just have a passion for doing it.
Viv looks at me expectantly, so I nod.”Hit me,” I tell her.
She shoots me a grin that’s fucking lethal. “Okay…what two hormones are released by the adrenal glands in response to stress?”
I close my eyes in an effort to concentrate. It doesn’t help, but that could also be due to the fact that I’m currently jumping rope. The steady thwap-thwap of the rope against the hardwood floor drives most of my housemates crazy, but I’ve got so much excess energy that I’ve got to get rid of it somehow.
