with us.”
I smiled at them when they entered the living space. “Take a cold shower,” I said. “It worked for me.”
“You took a cold shower for different reasons.”
“Oh please.”
“What are you reading?” Brooke asked.
“Another one of her torrid romances,” Elle said. “What’s this one called, Abby? ‘On the Edge of Desire’? ‘My Heart Beats Only for Him’? ‘Please Don’t Shoot in My Mouth’?”
“You’re disgusting.”
“So, what’s it called?”
“ Annihilate Me .”
“What the hell kind of a title is that?”
“One that’s supposed to annihilate me to my core, but in all the right ways.”
“You and your romances. After last night, I’d think you’d be reading erotica.”
“This series has its erotic moments!”
“You’re so predictable.”
I’m not that predictable….
“Have you eaten anything?” Brooke asked.
I screwed up my face at her. “Now you sound like my mother. By the way, she called earlier and asked me the same thing. I spoke with her and Aunt Marion. It was as epic as you’d expect given that each was in the same room with the other. Talk about a division of ideals. I’ve never understood how it’s possible that they’re sisters.”
“I love your Aunt Marion,” Elle said. “She’s kind of my idol. Imagine, living in Paris throughout your twenties. Talk about epic.”
Brooke nodded. “That woman isn’t only hot, but she’s a hoot. How is she?”
“Crazy as ever, which naturally made for a festive conversation that ended with my mother grabbing one of her plastic crucifixes and threatening to exorcise my aunt with it before the line went dead.”
“Now I miss home,” Elle said.
“A good dose of Aunt Marion is all a girl needs,” I agreed.
“I love your mother to death, but I can’t say the same about a good dose of her. I think she holds you back. Her and her goddamned religious beliefs. Did she get into your head again?”
“She warned me against ‘the city boys.’”
“See what I mean?”
“I’m fully aware of my mother’s issues, Elle.”
“I just wish you were aware of how much they’ve affected you.”
I shot her a warning look, and she held up her hands.
“But enough about that,” she said.
“So, did you eat?” Brooke asked.
“It’s too hot to eat. I think I’d feel sick if I ate anything.” I lifted my bottle of water. “However, I am keeping myself properly hydrated. Did you two eat?”
“Negative—same reason. The heat is insane.”
“It’s hell outside.”
“My mother suggested that I step outside, fry an egg on my face, and eat it,” I said. “Because apparently I’m not eating enough.”
“No comment,” Elle said.”
“None needed.”
She flopped down on one of the over-stuffed chairs opposite me. Brooke stepped in front of her and curled up in the chair beside her. Each was wearing shorts and a tank top, and I thought that they looked cute. Brooke was so fair, she had turned pink during the five-block walk to Starbucks. But not Elle. Elle had only gotten darker. Her tan was something to envy, but when wasn’t it?
“When did you get up?” she asked.
“A couple of hours ago.”
“How do you feel?”
A little anxious, thanks. The word on the street is that my barriers are about to be smashed apart.
“Great. I wanted to sleep longer, but it was so hot in that room, sleep was impossible. So I got up to take a shower but then my mother called. We talked. She and Aunt Marion squabbled. And then Chance called.”
They looked at me, then at each other—and I braced myself for what was to come.
“He did what?” Elle asked.
“He called me.”
“You gave him your number?”
“Not exactly….”
“He hunted it down?”
“I wouldn’t go that far.”
“What is he—some kind of stalker?”
“Well, he said that he wasn’t.”
“How did he get your number?”
“He said
I smiled at them when they entered the living space. “Take a cold shower,” I said. “It worked for me.”
“You took a cold shower for different reasons.”
“Oh please.”
“What are you reading?” Brooke asked.
“Another one of her torrid romances,” Elle said. “What’s this one called, Abby? ‘On the Edge of Desire’? ‘My Heart Beats Only for Him’? ‘Please Don’t Shoot in My Mouth’?”
“You’re disgusting.”
“So, what’s it called?”
“ Annihilate Me .”
“What the hell kind of a title is that?”
“One that’s supposed to annihilate me to my core, but in all the right ways.”
“You and your romances. After last night, I’d think you’d be reading erotica.”
“This series has its erotic moments!”
“You’re so predictable.”
I’m not that predictable….
“Have you eaten anything?” Brooke asked.
I screwed up my face at her. “Now you sound like my mother. By the way, she called earlier and asked me the same thing. I spoke with her and Aunt Marion. It was as epic as you’d expect given that each was in the same room with the other. Talk about a division of ideals. I’ve never understood how it’s possible that they’re sisters.”
“I love your Aunt Marion,” Elle said. “She’s kind of my idol. Imagine, living in Paris throughout your twenties. Talk about epic.”
Brooke nodded. “That woman isn’t only hot, but she’s a hoot. How is she?”
“Crazy as ever, which naturally made for a festive conversation that ended with my mother grabbing one of her plastic crucifixes and threatening to exorcise my aunt with it before the line went dead.”
“Now I miss home,” Elle said.
“A good dose of Aunt Marion is all a girl needs,” I agreed.
“I love your mother to death, but I can’t say the same about a good dose of her. I think she holds you back. Her and her goddamned religious beliefs. Did she get into your head again?”
“She warned me against ‘the city boys.’”
“See what I mean?”
“I’m fully aware of my mother’s issues, Elle.”
“I just wish you were aware of how much they’ve affected you.”
I shot her a warning look, and she held up her hands.
“But enough about that,” she said.
“So, did you eat?” Brooke asked.
“It’s too hot to eat. I think I’d feel sick if I ate anything.” I lifted my bottle of water. “However, I am keeping myself properly hydrated. Did you two eat?”
“Negative—same reason. The heat is insane.”
“It’s hell outside.”
“My mother suggested that I step outside, fry an egg on my face, and eat it,” I said. “Because apparently I’m not eating enough.”
“No comment,” Elle said.”
“None needed.”
She flopped down on one of the over-stuffed chairs opposite me. Brooke stepped in front of her and curled up in the chair beside her. Each was wearing shorts and a tank top, and I thought that they looked cute. Brooke was so fair, she had turned pink during the five-block walk to Starbucks. But not Elle. Elle had only gotten darker. Her tan was something to envy, but when wasn’t it?
“When did you get up?” she asked.
“A couple of hours ago.”
“How do you feel?”
A little anxious, thanks. The word on the street is that my barriers are about to be smashed apart.
“Great. I wanted to sleep longer, but it was so hot in that room, sleep was impossible. So I got up to take a shower but then my mother called. We talked. She and Aunt Marion squabbled. And then Chance called.”
They looked at me, then at each other—and I braced myself for what was to come.
“He did what?” Elle asked.
“He called me.”
“You gave him your number?”
“Not exactly….”
“He hunted it down?”
“I wouldn’t go that far.”
“What is he—some kind of stalker?”
“Well, he said that he wasn’t.”
“How did he get your number?”
“He said
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