Page 23 of If You Like It, I Love It

“If he spent the night and there is nothing to talk about, I’m going to punch that doctor who said you didn’t need a prescription for hormones yet.” Sabrina licks cream cheese frosting from the corner of her mouth.

“Joke’s on that dumb bastard because I ditched his ass for a woman doctor who’s already suggested a supplement and given me a prescription for a hormone cream based on my symptoms instead of my age. No more mood swings, no night sweats—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Glynnis waves off my rant. “How about orgasms? Specifically orgasms from Enzo.”

“Yes, he stayed the night. There were orgasms. But it’s not a big deal. Probably just a one-time thing.”

“Probably?” Glynnis asks.

She is the last person who is going to let me get away with downplaying this. She and Rhett spent months trying to deny they were in a relationship. Not that Enzo and I are in a relationship.

“He wants to go out again.” I slump in my chair.

Sabrina winces. “Oh, God. How bad was it?”

“Not bad at all. Exceptionally good.” I sit up and sip my mimosa. “This damn town, I swear. Nothing is sacred.”

Glynnis smiles as she digs her fork into the peach pie slice. “Well, if you wanted to keep it a secret, you should’ve had him leave before the sun came up.”

“Then you probably would’ve seen him on your way to yoga.”

“Clearly, you need to sell your place and move to a less-traveled road,” Sabrina says.

“My address is not the problem. His age is. Or mine is.”

“Age is only a problem if you make it one. Rhett and I are doing just fine,” Glynnis announces as if her situation and mine are the same.

“It’s different when the man is older. People don’t even bat an eye.”

Sabrina throws her freshly pulled cinnamon roll section back onto the plate. “Are you seriously going to let the potential judgment of strangers determine how you live your life? Since when?”

“That’s no way to live, babe.” Glynnis claims Sabrina’s discarded cinnamon roll bite. “Besides, no one will know your ages unless you tell them. Your age gap isn’t visually obvious.”

“I don’t know if you’re complimenting me or insulting him.”

“I’m encouraging you to ride that young dick at every opportunity.”

“I haven’t ridden it at all yet.” My irreverent response surprises me. I’m trying to take this seriously, but these two women make it impossible not to see the lighter side of most anything.

“Oh, now you have to go out with him again.”

Easy for Glynnis to say. She’s never met an etiquette she couldn’t spectacularly violate.

Sabrina nods. “Glynnie’s right. You don’t even know if you’re compatible yet.”

“We’re compatible, okay? Tab A into slot B. Everything worked as it should.”

“That’s not compatibility. And if it felt that mechanical, forget all my encouragement and please don’t subject yourself to that again.”

“I’m trying to make jokes so I don’t get weak and risk another date with him.”

“There is no reward without risk,” Glynnis says.

Sage advice from the former queen of recklessness.

Oliver rings the doorbell, and I welcome the chance to escape this conversation. But before I can leave my chair, Mav is opening the door. I didn’t even know he was here.

Mav fills the sawed-off bucket he keeps behind the bar for Oliver with water and sets it in his preferred spot—right in the middle of the floor where it’s in everyone’s way and no one will miss the alpaca enjoying his drink. To be seen and adored is Oliver’s mission in life.