Riley:
Cool. I don't care what her name is. Just ask her out again.
Me:
I'm just pointing out that she has a name and features other than her boobs.
Riley:
Well you weren't exactly forthcoming with details other than having large mammary glands but point taken. Ask EMBER out again, and this time sack up and wait for her to answer instead of running away like a pathetic puss-bag.
Me:
Pro tip, bro, therapy is not a good career choice for you.
Riley sends a thumbs up, and then a middle finger, and then:
Riley:
ASK HER OUT. PUSSBAG.
I put the phone on the charger, pour myself a big whiskey on the rocks, and sit on the couch to look for something to watch.
I end up watchingYellowstone.
I don't see the resemblance.
Four
EMBER
Itrudge back down the steps, fighting back tears. I hate crying, like really, really, reallyhatecrying, so that only pisses me off more, which turns into a whole snowball spiral of doom. By the time I get back down to the beach, I'm a total disaster.
Faye is back on the blanket, toweling herself off. She takes one look at me and sighs. "Oh boy. Now what, missy?"
I shake my head, barely keeping the onslaught of emotion at bay. “Nothing."
She snorts derisively. "And I'm Norma Jean Mortenson."
I frown at her. "Who?"
A roll of her eyes. "Kids these days. You might know her as Marilyn Monroe."
I sniff a laugh. "Oh."
Tossing the towel aside, Faye half-sits, half-falls to the blanket, snags her bag, and pulls out the container of brownies. "Well, if you don't wanna talk about it, then at least have a brownie."
I hesitate, but who am I kidding? Of course I'm having a brownie. You don't get an ass like mine eating nothing but salad. I plop down beside her and accept the treat. And good lord, it's a monster of a brownie. Over an inch thick and six inches square, it has a thick, gooey layer of chocolate frosting on topandchocolate chips inside it, and it's moist and fluffy yet dense.
"Holy shit, Faye," I say, around a mouthful. “This is amazing."
She grins at me, dabbing away a rogue bit of frosting from her lip with her thumb; the grin is mischievous, which may or may not bode well. "I'm famous in certain circles for my brownies."
"I can see why."
I'm halfway done with the giant brownie when I start paying attention to the actual flavor profile. Chocolate, chocolate, and more chocolate…
And something else. Something subtle but definitive.
