“Nick hasdated”—Ri lifted her hands, curling her pointer and middle finger in rabbit ears, which was the universal sign of quotations—“and I’m using that phrase loosely, a few people I know.”
“Models,” I presumed.
“Yes, but that’s not the point.”
“It’s my point,” I argued.
She ignored me. “He only sleeps with women three times.”
“What?” That sounded completely ludicrous.
“Apparently, he doesn’t want anything serious and makes it clear from Jump Street that he is only looking for casual fun. I think most women think they can change him, but they can’t. Once he’s slept with them three times, it’s game over.”
“He tells them that? Three times and we’re done?”
“No, not in so many words. I mean, he doesn’t have a punch card or anything, although, that wouldn’t be a bad idea. But the city is smaller than you think, and people talk. He’s slept with four women at my spin class who I know personally. They compared notes one night when we were out having drinks. They were all involved with him for different lengths of time, spanning either a few weeks or a few months. In their experiences, two similarities became glaringly obvious.” She lifted her hand and extended her pointer and then middle finger as she explained, “He’d been upfront and honest that he didn’t want anything serious, and they all said once they’d had sex with him three times, the relationship was over.”
That sounded so cold and calculating. I didn’t want to believe that Nick would treat people like that. But then I thought back to all the lipsticks that Bella had shown me, and it made me wonder if that was true. “That’s…horrible.”
Ri’s face scrunched up. “No,it’s not. It’s perfect!Youdon’t want to date anyone because you don’t want men in and out of Callie’s life.Hedoesn’t want anything serious. You can cash in three round trips to Pound Town and then have the memories of your visits to get you through the next four years of celibacy until Callie goes to college.”
I must be going crazy because Ri’s logic was actually starting to make sense to me.
“It’s win-win!’ Ri announced as a loud knock sounded on the front door.
Ri and I looked at each other for a beat before we both jumped from our seats like they’d been spring-loaded and rushed to the door. Whenever we were together, we resorted right back to our youth. That’s how I felt as we raced to see who could answer the door.
She beat me by a second and flung the door open. When she did, we saw a man in a UPS uniform standing next to a clothing rack lined with garment bags.
His gaze bounced between us. “Skye Taylor?”
“Yes,” I said, stepping forward.
“I need you to sign here.”
“What is this?” I asked as I signed the electronic clipboard.
“It’s a delivery,” the UPS man responded. I wasn’t sure if he was being sarcastic, or dumbstruck by Ri. I was leaning toward dumbstruck since he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of her.
I dropped the pen, and he pushed the rack inside before heading back down the stairs. That had to have been a beast to navigate up the narrow stairwell. I was feeling bad for him when Ri began unzipping every single bag.
“Holy shit!” Rihanna exclaimed as she stood staring at the rack of clothes that had just been delivered to my doorstep. There had to be a dozen formal gowns, each one more stunning than the next.
“Did you rent the runway?” she asked.
“Rent the what?”
“Rent the Runway. It’s a rental service for formal attire.”
“No, I don’t know where these came from. There has to be some mistake.” I shook my head as my phone buzzed on the kitchen counter, where it had been charging. I picked it up and saw that it was Jada calling on FaceTime.
“Hi,” I answered.
“Did you get the dresses?”
“Yes, but I don’t need—”
“I can have hair and makeup there in an hour if you’d like.”
