hospital, and he was all doped up. After we got back to his house, he fell asleep and started groaning like he was in pain, so I sat on the bed next to him and offered him some medicine. I guess he was dreaming, and he sat up and kissed me.”
She leaned in. “Oooh… like kissed you how? A peck, closed-lip style, or open-mouthed, hot and heavy?”
“Uh… the second one.”
“Sweet Jesus, Mary, Joseph, and all the Saints, you’ve got to be kidding me! And he doesn’t remember? What kind of crap is that?”
I shrugged. “He was in a half-dream, half-drugged state. He kissed me and fell right back to sleep.”
She tapped her fingers against puckered lips. “Yah, I don’t believe for one second he doesn’t remember.”
“Well, he doesn’t.” I turned my hands up. “In fact, moments after he kissed me, he puked.”
She erupted into a raucous fit of laughter. “What!”
“The drugs they gave him made him sick. He really doesn’t remember. He’s never hinted at anything, and believe me, if he remembered, he’d bring it up all the time.”
She frowned. “If you say so.”
“Trust me. I know him. He would.”
She laughed. “Okay, so I get why you’d have a thing for him.”
“I don’t have a thing for him. Sometimes he messes with me and it screws with my head. That’s all it is.”
“Screws with your head how?”
“Stupid stuff like pinning me against a car and getting in my face, saying things like he wants me, and then he laughs at me when he sees me getting flustered. It’s irritating, but he’s my best friend and he has my back like no one else does. He pushes my buttons because he can I guess.”
She shifted her eyes from side to side and sat quietly for a minute. “Hmm. Here’s my professional analysis. You ready?”
I chuckled. “Yep.”
“He has a thing for you.”
“No, he doesn’t. You don’t know him like I do.”
She held up her finger. “Don’t interrupt. I’m not finished with my dissertation.” I humored her and let her continue. “He wouldn’t do what he does if he didn’t have a thing for you. Men are pretty basic in the way they think. They see, they want, they take…or try to. You are the ungettable get and it drives him crazy. He keeps trying all of these things hoping one day he might break you down enough and you’ll make the final move. And I’d bet money he remembers kissing you. He’s waiting for you to say or do something because you, my darling, scare him.”
“That’s a riot.” I chuckled. “I appreciate your opinion but respectfully disagree.”
“I’ve said my piece and I know I’m right.” She finished the last of her beer, and I grabbed the bottle off the table, tossing it in the recycling bin. “Now, enough about Vance. I saved the best for last. Tell me everything about Oliver. What does he smell like? What have you talked about? And, is he as beautiful up close as he is on screen?”
I hopped on my counter and dangled my legs. I took a second to remember the moment he’d walked down the stairs. “He smells like the best kind of clean you can imagine. And, he’s drop dead, like so gorgeous it’s hard to believe he’s real.”
“Fantastic. What did you talk about? Did he tell you any secrets?” She raised her shoulders and clapped her hands.
I pressed my lips together in a slight grimace. “I signed a thing so I can’t really talk about what goes on or what we talk about. But…”
“Oh my God, what?” She leaned toward me and held her breath.
I bit down on my fingernail and looked at her out of the corner of my eye, grinning wide. “He told me I was stunning.”
Her eyes closed, and she melted into her chair. “I think I would have died on the spot.”
“I think I almost did.”
“So far he sounds like he’s pretty wonderful to work with. He is, right? Tell me he’s not a pompous ass.”
“No, so far he’s been really nice. He’s not bossy or grandiose like you’d think someone like him would
She leaned in. “Oooh… like kissed you how? A peck, closed-lip style, or open-mouthed, hot and heavy?”
“Uh… the second one.”
“Sweet Jesus, Mary, Joseph, and all the Saints, you’ve got to be kidding me! And he doesn’t remember? What kind of crap is that?”
I shrugged. “He was in a half-dream, half-drugged state. He kissed me and fell right back to sleep.”
She tapped her fingers against puckered lips. “Yah, I don’t believe for one second he doesn’t remember.”
“Well, he doesn’t.” I turned my hands up. “In fact, moments after he kissed me, he puked.”
She erupted into a raucous fit of laughter. “What!”
“The drugs they gave him made him sick. He really doesn’t remember. He’s never hinted at anything, and believe me, if he remembered, he’d bring it up all the time.”
She frowned. “If you say so.”
“Trust me. I know him. He would.”
She laughed. “Okay, so I get why you’d have a thing for him.”
“I don’t have a thing for him. Sometimes he messes with me and it screws with my head. That’s all it is.”
“Screws with your head how?”
“Stupid stuff like pinning me against a car and getting in my face, saying things like he wants me, and then he laughs at me when he sees me getting flustered. It’s irritating, but he’s my best friend and he has my back like no one else does. He pushes my buttons because he can I guess.”
She shifted her eyes from side to side and sat quietly for a minute. “Hmm. Here’s my professional analysis. You ready?”
I chuckled. “Yep.”
“He has a thing for you.”
“No, he doesn’t. You don’t know him like I do.”
She held up her finger. “Don’t interrupt. I’m not finished with my dissertation.” I humored her and let her continue. “He wouldn’t do what he does if he didn’t have a thing for you. Men are pretty basic in the way they think. They see, they want, they take…or try to. You are the ungettable get and it drives him crazy. He keeps trying all of these things hoping one day he might break you down enough and you’ll make the final move. And I’d bet money he remembers kissing you. He’s waiting for you to say or do something because you, my darling, scare him.”
“That’s a riot.” I chuckled. “I appreciate your opinion but respectfully disagree.”
“I’ve said my piece and I know I’m right.” She finished the last of her beer, and I grabbed the bottle off the table, tossing it in the recycling bin. “Now, enough about Vance. I saved the best for last. Tell me everything about Oliver. What does he smell like? What have you talked about? And, is he as beautiful up close as he is on screen?”
I hopped on my counter and dangled my legs. I took a second to remember the moment he’d walked down the stairs. “He smells like the best kind of clean you can imagine. And, he’s drop dead, like so gorgeous it’s hard to believe he’s real.”
“Fantastic. What did you talk about? Did he tell you any secrets?” She raised her shoulders and clapped her hands.
I pressed my lips together in a slight grimace. “I signed a thing so I can’t really talk about what goes on or what we talk about. But…”
“Oh my God, what?” She leaned toward me and held her breath.
I bit down on my fingernail and looked at her out of the corner of my eye, grinning wide. “He told me I was stunning.”
Her eyes closed, and she melted into her chair. “I think I would have died on the spot.”
“I think I almost did.”
“So far he sounds like he’s pretty wonderful to work with. He is, right? Tell me he’s not a pompous ass.”
“No, so far he’s been really nice. He’s not bossy or grandiose like you’d think someone like him would
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