That sounds like a good plan to me, so I steer the stroller toward the back of the store and snag one of the larger dressing rooms. It’ll be faster if Maggie can see the bras as I try them on, and I’m not shy about my body. Besides, we’re best friends and we’ve been through it all together. I helped her right after Calla was born and she changed my bandages after my implant surgery.
“Don’t get me wrong, I love my tits. But bra shopping was a lot easier when all I cared about was how cute the bra was,” I say, hanging my selections up on the hooks before peeling my top off and shimmying out of my sports bra. That’s the kind of undergarment I’m much more familiar with. Half the time, I just wear them as shirts. But I’ve only got one real bra that fits right now, and I’m spilling out of the top of it. Mickey doesn’t seem to mind, but I know my lingerie is still in need of an update. I rifle through the stack until I find the lacy moss green one. And, yes, it happens to match the color of Mickey’s eyes, but no, that isn’t why I chose it. I just like the color.
It takes a second for me to adjust the straps and get the hooks just right, but when it finally feels like it’s not either going to fall off or suffocate me, I turn toward the mirror.
“Damn,” Maggie says, wriggling into a soft pink bra. “You look hot.”
“Right back at you,” I say as she strikes a pose. I try on a few more bras because Maggie tells me that different styles fit differently. Who knew? There’s a purple one that’s cute, but itchy, and a white one that’s the same size as all the rest, but somehow way too small. That makes zero sense to me.
There’s one bra left in my stash and it’s baby blue silk. There’s lacy trim and a little keyhole opening at the front. The minute I snap the hooks in place, I know I never want to take it off.
“That’s an automatic yes,” Maggie says as she puts my discarded bras back on their little hangers—that’s true friendship. “I don’t care if you have to take out a loan, that bra needs to go home with you.”
“Agreed,” I say, loving the way the fabric molds to my body. “This is worth any extra classes I have to pick up. This is the loveliest piece of clothing I’ve ever owned. Don’t get me wrong. I’m staying loyal to my bike shorts and bra tops, but this? It’s heavenly.”
“It fits you perfectly. And a certain defenseman is going to love seeing you in it. I bet he’ll love taking it off even more.”
I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. It’s an involuntary reaction that happens when anybody mentions Mickey. Or when I’m in the same room with him. Or when a message from him pops up on my phone.
“Oh, my god. You’re blushing. Mickey makes you blush. I’ve known you since preschool and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you blush before.” Maggie’s so excited I think she’s about to start doing cartwheels, and even though this is a decent-sized fitting room, that could get dicey.
“I’m not blushing,” I protest. “It’s just hot in here.”
My bestie rolls her eyes. “No, it isn’t. And you can deny it all you want, but you’ve got it bad for Mickey. And I, for one, couldn’t be happier about it. You deserve this, Viv. He’s such a sweetheart, and you two are the cutest couple?—”
“We aren’t a couple,” I say, quick to correct Mags. I love her dearly, but I need to set the record straight. By the look on her face, though, she’s not having it.
“I call bull—” she darts a quick look at her sleeping daughter and clears her throat. “I think you are making a false statement, Vivian Charlotte McDonald.”
“Full- name me all you want,” I say, reluctantly peeling the delicate garment off and swap it for my usual clothes. “It doesn’t change the fact that Mickey and I aren’t dating. We’re best friends with all the benefits. You know this. And you know that I don’t do relationships. And you know why.”
“I do know why,” Maggie says gently, reaching for my hand and giving it a squeeze. “But I also know from personal experience that not all guys are cheating douchebags. There are good ones out there, Viv, and Mickey’s most definitely in that category. I know you’ve been hurt, but trust me, it’s okay to let yourself fall in love again.”
Something about her words sends shivers up and down my spine. “I’m not in love with Mickey. I love him, yeah, but it’s not the same thing. We’re just friends, and?—”
Maggie frowns. “Uh, I don’t have an official judges’ ruling on this, but I’m pretty sure that once you’ve crossed the butt sex line, you’re no longer ‘just friends’. And why would you want to be, anyway? You’ve said yourself that the sex is other-wordly. And you guys have so much fun together. You’re like a matched set.”
“No, we’refriends,” I say, frustration lacing my tone more than I want it to, but, dammit, Maggie should know better. “Look, I say, huffing out a sigh as we leave the dressing room and head for the register, “in some parallel universe, Mickey and I might be the perfect couple. But not in this one. I don’t do relationships, and that’s not changing. Besides, Mickey’s onboard with the whole besties-with-bennies thing, too. He doesn’t need a relationship complicating his life.”
“Complicating his—have you lost your mind, Viv? Taken a few too many tumbles off the top of the pyramid? That boy iscompletely in love with you. It’s written all over his face. You’re not a complication to him. You’re his whole world.”
I know she’s trying to build me, trying to walk me closer to the edge of the cliff that she and the rest of our friends have happily jumped off in the last year, but Magie’s words are making me feel a little panicky. I plunk down my new lingerie and my credit card before turning toward the girl who’s been my other half for almost twenty years. “I can’t lose him, Mags,” I say honestly. “And that’s exactly what I’d be risking if we crossed that line. I won’t do it. I don’t know if I’m a magnet for cheaters or just a toxic girlfriend, but I know I am not cut out for happily-ever-after. You found yours, and that’s amazing. But it’s just not in the cards for me, and if I pretend like it is, I’ll ruin everything. I’m not putting myself through that again, and I’m not putting Mickey through it either.”
Maggie looks like she wants to argue. She looks like she’s about to launch into a very logical, detailed argument about why I’m meant for the fairytale she’s currently living.
Thankfully, Calla chooses this moment to start fussing.
That’s my girl right there. I’m going to have to buy her a pony someday just for this save alone.
17
Viv
“Oh, hey, you’re back already,” Mickey says, turning toward me as I step into his room. He’s sitting on the edge of his bed with a small wooden fishing rod in his hands and two tiny, fluffy kittens playing at his feet. I can’t tell all the kitties apart yet, but I recognize these two as Frank and Heather. “How was bra shopping?”
I set my bag on the bed before taking a seat next to Mickey. For a brief second, Maggie’s earlier words flit through my mind. If Mickey and I were dating, is this what it would be like? Coming home and hanging out. Playing with the kittens or watching a movie, then making dinner and eating together? Making love until we’re so exhausted that we can’t keep our eyes open so we collapse in a heap on his bed to get some sleep? That’s basically our life right now, minus the penetrative sex part. Although, honestly, our sex life is more than satisfying. Everything about our friendship is more than I could ever ask for, and that’s why I can’t risk messing it up. I know all our friends think we’re crazy, and that no one really believes we’re “just friends”, but I also know that labels ruin everything. Once you make things official, once you take that leap, there’s nogoing back. Someone will eventually feel trapped or resentful or unhappy. And after that, the only thing left is heartbreak.
I lived through it with Jace. I saw it with my own parents. I’ve watched my cheer friends go through it.
