Page 114 of 13 Rules For Fantastic Phone Sex

Suspicious, Saoirse turns her focus to Kait. When I don’t introduce her, she thrusts out her hand to shake, knowing it would be terrible manners on my part not to introduce her.

“Kaitlin, this is my sister, Saoirse. Saoirse, Kaitlin.”

Kait doesn’t jump up to hug Saoirse; she looks at me with a big question in her eyes.

“Kaitlin, it’s lovely to meet you. Pardon my extraordinary rudeness while I steal my brother away.” She glares at me, then looks at Kait with a smile. “Would you excuse us for a moment?”

Saoirse beams her brightest, highest-wattage Sterling smile at her. What is far less attractive is the way she literally takes me by the ear and drags me ten feet away. Black glasses is outright staring at her, which happens a lot, but what isn’t typical is the woman who brings her miniature dog every morning leans to hear better. Even Duncan is listening, his hand still on the fancy coffee machine, instead of making a loud blast of steam.

“I can’t with you, Henry Benedict. What the fuck are you playing at?”

I’ve done nothing, and yet here we are, with Tyson-level ear damage pending. If I see teeth, I’m fighting back.

“I, nothing? Let go of my ear, Sha?” I’m 1,050 percent sure we aren’t far enough away from my bat-eared Kait, who would diagnose my mood from the way my sheets rustled by phone. If we are, the rest of the audience can fill her in. I don’t have to look to know their noses are poking into our conversation. It would be hilarious if it weren’t so embarrassing.

“Henry, it’s not fair to Kaitlin that you are madly in love with a woman named Kait and fucked it up so badly you can’t find her.”

My face is heating; even my ears feel hot. Please don’t let Kait hear this. I peek at her, but I can’t tell.

Saoirse keeps going. “People with Kait-derived names are not interchangeable cogs. Find the one you lost, give up, move on or don’t, but don’t torture the unsuspecting Kaitlins of Chicagoland with your fuckery.” My mortification grows with every word. Even soy London fog vanilla syrup is listening now.

I steal a glance at Kait, who is avoiding my eyes, but her lips are curved into a smile as she plays on her phone. Is she secretly pleased?

Saoirse, on the other hand, is pissed when I’m not the slightest bit contrite, and that makes the lecture worse. Kait tries hiding her smile behind her hand, gives up, and sends me a salacious wink. I wink back, then smile so hard my cheeks hurt. The busybodies have the courtesy to pretend they aren’t straining to hear every word, but they seem tickled by our wink thing. The place practically goes silent, aside from the steam of the espresso machine, at yet another spectacle.

I try to listen but fail. I keep sneaking peeks at Kait. She’s delighted at my predicament. There is no pain, no anger, and my soundtrack abruptly changes to “I Wanna Be Adored” while I peek at her over Saoirse’s shoulder. I have no idea what Saoirse is saying because Kait and I are flirting and maybe a wee bit of eye fucking. She bites her lip, blushes a little, and I’m filled to bursting with more happiness than I can remember, aside from being a kid with a new puppy.

Could life be any better?

Yes, it could be. We could be at home, and Kait could run her fingers through my hair while I’m sliding inside her, or maybe she can’t play with my hair because I have her pinned down the way she likes. But her smile has my heart expanding. She’s the most important win of my entire life.

I grab Saoirse’s cheeks and kiss her on the forehead, her rant slowing to a halt with surprise. Two of the three women I adore most are right here. It’s like a dream, except one is bitching me out, one is quietly amused at my expense, and the other is my mom, so it’s real.

Saoirse tries to finish her list of reasons why I have failed as a human, but I walk back to Kait.

“Henry! Henry, I’m still speaking to you!”

Kait plays innocent, stirring her tea, looking vaguely bored, as though she didn’t hear a single thing. She gives me a quick conspiratorial smile and a tiny nod. Good. We’re in agreement. I sit down next to Kait, take her hand, and kiss it before interlacing our fingers. Another wish made real.

“Saoirse? I’ve changed my mind. No shopping. I’ve decided to trade you both in on some nice girls.” I make a show of freeing my hand from Kait’s. “I’m going to put an ad online. Wanted: nice girls who won’t humiliate me in Christian Dior, saying ‘cum gutters.’”

I drop into a whisper at the end since the nosiest people on the planet drink coffee here, and Saoirse’s mouth hangs open, shocked at my words.

Kait is wiggling in her seat like she has a spring for a tail, ready to burst with excitement. Saoirse is speechless for what may be the first time ever. She looks at me, then at Kait’s enormous grin, and in the least expected move of the day, Saoirse bursts into tears and starts hugging me so hard it hurts. I don’t even protest when she gets my neck all wet. She hugs me so long it’s getting awkward when she finally lets go.

She grabs a chair from an adjoining table and sits down, wiping at her tears but trying to salvage her eye makeup. “Oh, Henry, I knew she was the one when you said ‘fuck’ and ‘shit’ in her presence.”

I roll my eyes. So romantic.

“Wait, why are you sitting down? No uninvited Sterlings allowed. You have places to go and things to do. You need to go to them. Today. Now.” Then Kait’s eyes start to look a little moist, and I cave. “Okay, fine, you can stay.”

She stays, they hug, and we laugh like we used to; they gang up on me and make plans for how to make my life difficult.

Of course, Julian strolls in three minutes later, wandering up to our table and trying to play it cool, but he’s out of breath.

Can’t a guy catch a break? Pretty sure Kait had something she wanted to tell me.

“Uh?” I say. “What are you doing here?”