“Ohhhh, so youareinto Lucas!” I squeal and clap my hands, but she proceeds to spit her wine and shake her hand.
“Oh, no, no, no. Lucas is great, nice guy. I can appreciate he is, well, man meat, for sure. Edible, by any standards, I’m sure men switch teams just for him?—”
“I like you.” I point at Stella and she smirks, looking to her lap shyly.
“But it’s platonic. He was my first close friend in the city and that’s all it’s really been. I couldn’t be interested if I tried, honestly.”
Ugh,boring.
“Okay, can we pause interrogation and eat this freaking pasta! I am starving,” Addison begs, and we chuckle, diving into the bowls and pasta.
Sitting back in my cushion, I look to the girls, and it feels…nice to have them back here. Even better that we added a person to our little group.
Something like warmth spreads over my chest. This is all the family I’ll ever need, I’m sure of it.
“So, do you remember Dave?” Halle’s sickly sweet voice hits me from where she is skipping up the escalator of our building, meeting me at the coffee stand.
“You mean your buildings super?” I turn to look at her and note the lollipop hanging out the side of her mouth, which gleamed a smile, sharp and knowing. She slurps and pops the lollipop out of her mouth.
“Uh-huh. He stayed over.” She waggles her eyebrows, hitting me with her devious smile.
“You fucked your super?!” I whisper-shout my shock, and she descends into giggles.
“Girl, Itoldyou he was packing.”
“But he’s your super!” I cringe and give her my look of disgust.
“Rosie, your rich girl is showing.” I give her my bestare you serious?stare before taking the coffees from the barista.
“That was not a rich-girl reaction. That was a normal woman’s reaction because the dude is like forty. Isn’t he a dad?”
“Not his kids. Turns out they are his ex’s kids,” she provides, taking her coffee from my hand while still sucking on her fucking lollipop.
I turn and stare blankly at her. “He told you that?” She nods. “He told you hisex’skids were not his…and you believed him?” I give her the eyes that should hopefully communicate the common sense she seems to have skipped over.
“Wait…no.” She shakes her head.
“Yes.”
“No…what man would lie about that?” Oh dear.
“Halle, babes. A man who wants to fuck a tall, hot bimbo with 32DDs. Not to mention, he is in your apartment all the time to fix that broken bathroom pipe. How often do you pack away your bedside toys or hide the lingerie in the bathroom?” I give her another look and she turns pale.
“No,” she whispers.
“Yes.” I dip my head with regretful confirmation.
“Dammit,” she scolds herself and tosses her lollipop in the bin as we make our way to the elevators. “He was a great lay too. Ugh, men. Why do they have to…menall the time?”
“Beats me, girl.”
“So, how’s things with the bread maker?”
“Huh?” The elevator dings on our level and Halle holds her tongue until we are past reception and making our way to our cubicles.
“You know, Mr. Thirteen, the baker’s dozen?”
“Ugh, you’re gross.”
