“You know,” Steph says. “I’m glad we have the kind of friendship where you don’t feel the need to wear pants around me.” She flops down on the sofa with her Ben and Jerry’s, nodding at my barelegs.
“Steph, the second you came in, you tossed your sneakers in the corner and stripped out of yourbra.”
“I know. Clothes arestupid.”
I’d be leaving her andDani…
She digs her spoon into the top layer of ice cream, scooping an insane amount into her mouth. Her eyes roll back in her head on a groan. “Oh, did I tell you I signed up forSAA.”
I frown. “Sex AddictsAnonymous?”
“Yep. I’m taking your advice and seeking help for my propensity forcock.”
I almost roll my eyes. “Steph, you aren’t a sexaddict.”
“But,” she holds up her spoon. “I have the predisposition to become one. Why not head itoff?”
With a facepalm, I shake myhead.
“So,” she says. “You never told me how your date went the othernight.”
I drag the spoon over my ice cream and a shaving of chocolatey goodness curls onto the tip. I debate whether to tell her the truth ornot.
“It was fine.” I casually shrug ashoulder.
The eerie sci-fi ringtone wails from myphone.
“Whatthe fuckis that?” Steph glances around, looking for the source of thenoise.
“It’s Elijah’sringtone.”
“It’s creepy ashell.”
I grab my cell from the table and turn it to silent, not bothering to check mytext.
“Alright, what’s going on? Because you have bags under your eyes, and you’re ignoringhim.”
“It’s just.” Sighing, I think about the party. About the things he said to me. About the life I have here in New York and how if I don’t go to London, I’ll probably just end up with another Harold… “Messed up. It’s really messed up.” I fight the tightening sensation in mythroat.
“You went and caught feelings for the fuckface,huh?”
“I mean…” I draw a star over the top of my icecream.
“Don’t lie. Things can’t be messed up or fucked up or even complicated if you don’t have feelings. Feelings screw everythingup!”
I’m not sure why, but I don’t want to admit it to Steph. It seems so fast, so rash—so unlike me. “It’s only been a month,Steph.”
“Romeo and Juliet ended up falling in love, getting married, and dying all within a matter of weeks! Just like life, love has notimeline.”
“Steph.”
She shakes her spoon at me. “You can’t argue love with Shakespeare, and I don’t wantto—”
“Elijah’s moving to London tomorrow!” As soon as I confess that I sink into thecouch.
She blinks, and a little trail of chocolate dribbles down her chin. “When did you find thisout?”
“On the first officialdate.”
