thing.”
Jenn, who had been describing her fiancée Liz’s wedding shoes—sparkly white slip-ons, the company that donates sneakers to little kids—blinks. “Umm.” She laughs. “Okay. What wasn’t?”
“The thing with the work guy,” Addie clarifies, feeling suddenly nervous. She takes a big gulp of her beer. “The guy from work.”
Jenn’s eyes widen. “The good sex guy?” she asks.
“Oh my God, shut up,” Addie hisses, even though the bar is mostly empty. They’re at a brew pub in Stockbridge tonight, Addie picking at Jenn’s fries even though she just had dinner. She shoves one into her mouth now, like she can keep Jenn quiet that way also. She’s not a prude, okay, she’s not , but that doesn’t mean she wants the details of her sex life announced to all of Berkshire freaking County. Especially when those details involve Eli.
“Nobody can hear me,” Jenn says mildly. Then she raises her eyebrows. “So okay, what, are you seeing him?”
“Oh God, no, nothing like that,” Addie says immediately. “We’re just—” She breaks off, unsure how to explain it. It’s been more than just a few times, even. After the day in the car she thought she could just be finished, but the next night they made out in the kitchen for close to an hour completely undisturbed, Addie up on the counter and Eli grinding himself against her through her work pants until she shuddered. Two nights after that he put on a repeat performance in the locker room and only barely missed getting caught by Jill, who was on her way back from a call and ripped Eli a new one for being a creepy lurker. Addie hasn’t slept with him again, but she wants to. She thinks about it all the freaking time.
Jenn lets her work through it, taking a swig of her beer. “Just what?” she prompts, when Addie comes up with a fat lot of nothing after two minutes. “Just hooking up repeatedly?” Then, off Addie’s reluctant nod, “Oh my God, Adelaide.” She grins hugely, slapping both palms down on the table. “Do you have a fuck buddy?”
“Shut up ,” Addie repeats, looking around again. Jenn has always been so much cooler about this kind of thing, ever since they were kids. Addie still remembers how she wore her uniform in high school, kohl eyeliner and her skirt not just hiked but hemmed. Jenn’s chunky jewelry never seemed to get confiscated, even though Addie’s plain gold hoops were removed every day. “I guess? Apparently I’m a slut now.”
Jenn rolls her eyes. “Oh please.” Jenn took Gender Studies in college, and now she doesn’t believe in sluts. Addie tries not to believe in them either, but it’s turning out to be just as hard as trying not to believe in God. Eli’s mouth between her legs certainly feels like it should be a sin. “Are you having fun?” Jenn demands, as if that’s the only thing in the breathing world that matters.
Addie thinks about that. “I mean.” She pictures Eli’s scarred chest and the easy way he sunburns, his solid stomach. How he looks sort of doofy when he smiles right at you but if you catch him from the side, say, chopping onions, his dark hair curling along the back of his neck and his thin, bizarrely elegant lips and— “Yeah,” Addie says. “I am.”
“Good girl,” Jenn pronounces, wicked as a queen. Her eyebrows are perfect, two dark arches framing her face. She does Addie’s too, but they’re never as good. “God knows it’s about time.”
Addie shoots her an irritated look, blushing in spite of herself. “Whatever. It’s not going to last. It’s a summer thing, if even. It’s dumb.”
Jenn shrugs, grinning over her beer glass. “We’ll see.”
Addie’s phone buzzes with a text from Jill as they’re finishing their round: At the Pint w the guys, it reads. Come have a drink .
Addie appreciates the heads up. It’s a one-of-the-boys thing, their job is, and she and Buono try to help each other out when they can. Jenn’s got to get home to Liz
Jenn, who had been describing her fiancée Liz’s wedding shoes—sparkly white slip-ons, the company that donates sneakers to little kids—blinks. “Umm.” She laughs. “Okay. What wasn’t?”
“The thing with the work guy,” Addie clarifies, feeling suddenly nervous. She takes a big gulp of her beer. “The guy from work.”
Jenn’s eyes widen. “The good sex guy?” she asks.
“Oh my God, shut up,” Addie hisses, even though the bar is mostly empty. They’re at a brew pub in Stockbridge tonight, Addie picking at Jenn’s fries even though she just had dinner. She shoves one into her mouth now, like she can keep Jenn quiet that way also. She’s not a prude, okay, she’s not , but that doesn’t mean she wants the details of her sex life announced to all of Berkshire freaking County. Especially when those details involve Eli.
“Nobody can hear me,” Jenn says mildly. Then she raises her eyebrows. “So okay, what, are you seeing him?”
“Oh God, no, nothing like that,” Addie says immediately. “We’re just—” She breaks off, unsure how to explain it. It’s been more than just a few times, even. After the day in the car she thought she could just be finished, but the next night they made out in the kitchen for close to an hour completely undisturbed, Addie up on the counter and Eli grinding himself against her through her work pants until she shuddered. Two nights after that he put on a repeat performance in the locker room and only barely missed getting caught by Jill, who was on her way back from a call and ripped Eli a new one for being a creepy lurker. Addie hasn’t slept with him again, but she wants to. She thinks about it all the freaking time.
Jenn lets her work through it, taking a swig of her beer. “Just what?” she prompts, when Addie comes up with a fat lot of nothing after two minutes. “Just hooking up repeatedly?” Then, off Addie’s reluctant nod, “Oh my God, Adelaide.” She grins hugely, slapping both palms down on the table. “Do you have a fuck buddy?”
“Shut up ,” Addie repeats, looking around again. Jenn has always been so much cooler about this kind of thing, ever since they were kids. Addie still remembers how she wore her uniform in high school, kohl eyeliner and her skirt not just hiked but hemmed. Jenn’s chunky jewelry never seemed to get confiscated, even though Addie’s plain gold hoops were removed every day. “I guess? Apparently I’m a slut now.”
Jenn rolls her eyes. “Oh please.” Jenn took Gender Studies in college, and now she doesn’t believe in sluts. Addie tries not to believe in them either, but it’s turning out to be just as hard as trying not to believe in God. Eli’s mouth between her legs certainly feels like it should be a sin. “Are you having fun?” Jenn demands, as if that’s the only thing in the breathing world that matters.
Addie thinks about that. “I mean.” She pictures Eli’s scarred chest and the easy way he sunburns, his solid stomach. How he looks sort of doofy when he smiles right at you but if you catch him from the side, say, chopping onions, his dark hair curling along the back of his neck and his thin, bizarrely elegant lips and— “Yeah,” Addie says. “I am.”
“Good girl,” Jenn pronounces, wicked as a queen. Her eyebrows are perfect, two dark arches framing her face. She does Addie’s too, but they’re never as good. “God knows it’s about time.”
Addie shoots her an irritated look, blushing in spite of herself. “Whatever. It’s not going to last. It’s a summer thing, if even. It’s dumb.”
Jenn shrugs, grinning over her beer glass. “We’ll see.”
Addie’s phone buzzes with a text from Jill as they’re finishing their round: At the Pint w the guys, it reads. Come have a drink .
Addie appreciates the heads up. It’s a one-of-the-boys thing, their job is, and she and Buono try to help each other out when they can. Jenn’s got to get home to Liz
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