“I have pills for that if you need them.” Erin shifted in her seat. “Are you thinking about Mateo again?”
Erin and I hid nothing from each other, so of course she already knew everything that happened with Mateo the other day. That, and she was here when he called me.
I waited to answer as I swallowed another bite. “I’m not sure if I actually believe he’s okay with my dad being his coach.”
Erin dragged her piece of bacon through syrup as she replied. “Does it really matter if he is or not?”
“I don’t want to ruin his career if, by some chance, my father disagrees.” I would feel like absolute dog shit if I wereto jeopardize Mateo’s football career in any way. He had more to lose than I did.
“First off, you’re a grown woman, and your dad has no say in who you hang out with.” Erin pinned me with a look. “And, Em, babe, you are way too selfless. For once do something for yourself. If that means fucking the hot football quarterback, then please do.”
“We both have so much going on, I doubt either of us has time to even date.” My excuse fell flat, even to my own ears.
“How do you know? Have you asked him?” Erin pointed another piece of bacon at me. “I love you, Em, you know I do, but you’re self-sabotaging right now.”
“I’m not.” My tone got a bit defensive, but only because I knew she was right.
“Yes, you are. You always do when it comes to anything not skating related.” Erin leaned forward, eyes glued to mine. “What’s the harm in just hanging out with him?”
“Well, he could be a psychopath.” That wasn’t entirely unfeasible. I watchedDateline.
“A hot psychopath,” Erin hummed. “But seriously, Emmie, stop getting in your own way. Message the poor guy. It doesn’t have to turn into anything serious, and there’s no harm in just having some fun.”
“Yeah.” My voice was soft. She did have a point.
I glanced down at my phone beside my plate. It seemed to taunt me to pick it up and text Mateo. With a huff, I snatched and clicked on his name. I chewed my bottom lip as nerves fluttered in my stomach for some stupid reason. If I could skate in the Olympics, I could text a guy.
Me: Hey, are you free later?
I stared at the text for a good five minutes, contemplating if I should send it or not.
“Emmie, send the damn text,” Erin all but commanded.
“Fine, fine.” I hit Send and flipped my phone face down on the table so I wouldn’t keep checking it.
With a straight face, Erin said, “If you need a wing woman let me know. I’ll gladly come and hang out with some of his football friends.”
“You’d gladly help me out, huh?”
“That’s what best friends are for.”
I laughed into my coffee. Of course she’d be happy to tag along if there were hot football players there. “Want me to see if he has any single friends?”
“I do need inspiration for scenes.” She wriggled her eyebrows. “I’ve heard they have great stamina.”
“Such a horn dog.”
“That’s how I write such great books. I draw from real-life experiences.” Erin made a crude hand motion.
“Remind me—why are we friends again?” I asked, getting up from the table with my empty plate.
“Cause I give your lifespice.”
“You sure do bring something,” I teased. I put my dish in the sink and turned back around to face her.
“Don’t act like you don’t love my love.”
With a grin, I walked over to her. I grabbed her head and planted a kiss on her cheek with a loudmwah. “You know I love you and would marry you in a heartbeat.”
