Does she ask me? Hell, yeah, she does. On a daily basis.
“Have you been laid yet? Do we need to find you a new girl to fixate on? Why don’t you throw Bria on the bed and show her the man you truly are.”
She’s not one to hold back, and I’m always happy to respond, even if I do answer with wide eyes and an incredulous laugh.
But I don’t ask.
If she wants to volunteer information, I’ll listen and react—sometimes weirdly, like now—but I don’t ask.
Bria and I never really spoke about that part of our lives until our argument at the event. Before that, we kept our love lives out of our friendship, and I never questioned it since it worked to my advantage.
But something shifted a few months back and now Bria’s taken to filling me in on every part of her personal life—the dating apps she’s joined, the men she’s seeing. And yet, when I bring up Hayley, she falls silent, changing the subject in a heartbeat.
I’m not overly thrilled by Bria’s newfound openness. It’s always been easier to avoid that level of conversation. But I’ll admit, I’m curious about Hayley.
Without me asking, she’s confided in me about a lot of her past experience, and I assumed she had a healthy sex life.
But she's abstaining?Mind blown.
“You look like you have questions,” Hayley teases when I walk back in, fully clothed. And she’s not wrong. But again, I’m not about to ask. Instead, I shrug my shoulders and smile.
“Andyoulook like you have a plan for today,” I change the subject. “Where are we going? Swimming with sharks? Rock climbing? What big adventure do you have running through your mind?”
It didn’t take long for me to learn that asking Hayley how she wants to spend our time together is a dangerous question, and yet, I can’t seem to stop myself asking it. I like the excitement it ignites in her eyes—the happiness it elicits—whenever she tries to talk me into her crazy ideas. Like surfing in fall with ten-foot waves, when I’ve never set foot on a surfboard, or sneaking me into the San Francisco movie studios because they forgot to take her pass back, signing us up as extras on a well-known TV series.
As though we won’t be recognized.
Neither of which I actually agreed to.
I raise my brows in question and Hayley pauses, her eyes full of the zest I love to see.
“I want to go dress shopping.”
“Say what?” I frown as she laughs.
“I need your help.” She grimaces with clenched teeth. “I have my movie premiere coming up, and the publicity tour. I need a stylist.”
A stylist?“Okay.” I’m not sure I like where this is going but I wait for her to continue.
“I want you to come with me,” she confirms and…that’s what I was worried about.
“Are you sure?” My nose scrunches and she bursts out laughing again.
“It’s not hard. All you have to do is sit there and tell me what you think.”
Fuck. That sounds dangerous.
“Isn’t that a job better suited to Amelia or Paige, or anyone else on the planet?” I’m not sure she really needs help. I still remember the dress she chose for the Storm charity eventandthe event she went to with Paige, but she’s asking, so…
“They’re busy and I don’t wantanyoneelse on the planet. I wantyou. I trustyourjudgment.”
“For dresses? So this is what our friendship has come to? Me being your replacement girlfriend when the others aren’t available.”
“Sure. Like with Bria.”
“Ouch, Hayls. Did I hurt you in a past life?”
Hayley shoves me back as she giggles uncontrollably before walking into the kitchen and helping herself to a cider. “I’m just messing with you.”
