battle.”
“This one?” Zoe suggests, pulling out a blush pink peplum cocktail dress with a low V-neck. The whole bodice is covered in pearl sequins, giving the fabric a flashy ‘look at me now’ feel. It’s beautiful, but not me.
I shake my head but even though it isn’t what I’m looking for, I can’t stop looking at it. “It’s damn pretty though,” I say on a sigh.
“I wore it to our engagement party that Noah’s parents threw for us. Probably the same kind of crowd that’ll be there tonight.”
I lift my hands to my forehead and squeeze my eyes shut. “Why did I agree to do this again?” I ask no one.
Dani—of course—answers. “Because it was Doctor Hottie who asked you.”
“As someone with her own hot doctor, that is reason enough,” Zoe says with a laugh.
My head snaps up to look at the two of them. “It’s not like that. We’re just friends.”
“That bang,” Dani adds, helpfully.
“I’m the mother buffer,” I clarify.
“And what exactly does that role entail? Because sleeping with the guy—added bonus, romantic dinner for two—seems out of the mother-buffer job description,” Dani continues.
“You went on a date with him?” Zoe gasps. “How did I not know this? If my husband knew this and didn’t tell me, he’s in so much trouble.”
I sigh—loudly. “It wasn’t a date!”
“Heard that before,” Dani mutters.
I put my fingers in my ears. “La, la, la, I can’t hear you,” I say in a singsong voice before pulling them out again.
“You’re in denial. D. E. N. I. A. L.”
“Oh wow, Dan, you can spell,” Zoe mocks. Dani replies by poking her tongue out at her older sister, but thankfully lets the conversation go.
Zoe’s phone chimes with a text and her fingers swipe over the screen, her eyes narrowing just before her fingers furiously type out a message. “My husband has been holding out on me!”
“That happens after children, I’ve heard,” I retort.
“Ha, fucking, ha. Even after two children, Noah and I have no problem in that department.”
“Gross!” Dani groans, continuing to flick through the hangers in Zoe’s walk-in closet. “It’s bad enough that I’ve heard Cade and Abi going at it. I don’t need the idea of you and Noah in my head, too.
Zoe’s head snaps up, and she looks at me and then her sister. “You’ve heard them? What? When? How . . . ? Why? ”
“Long story,” Dani replies, her cheeks going a lovely shade of red.
“Let’s just say there was a sex battle in our apartment, and we all won,” I explain.
“Knew I wouldn’t want to know,” Zoe mutters.
“So what did Noah not tell you?” Dani asks.
Zoe jabs her finger at her phone, furiously typing out a text. “He knew about the date—”
“Again, not a date . . .” I reiterate.
Zoe waves her hand at me. “Whatever. He just told me you guys have been banging for a while.”
“I wouldn’t say a while . . .” Does a ten-month gap between romps count?
Zoe quirks a brow at me. “How long then?”
I open my mouth to brush her off but yet again, my best friend freely offers the information. “Once last year, then again last weekend after that night out at Throb, and—probably—the other night after their date. ”
“It wasn’t a—”
“Date, we know,” Zoe and Dani reply in unison.
It’s six thirty, and I’m pacing my living room primped, primed and ready to pretend like a pro and Cade’s late. Yes, the man is late. My anxiety levels are sky high, and during the past ten minutes I’ve gone from freaking out to slow, deep breathing, to picking up my phone and going so far as to bring up his name on my phone before quickly putting it back in my purse.
I’m a basket case and as every minute ticks by, I’m second guessing my decision to agree to this fake relationship business—the promise of unlimited orgasms be damned.
Something stuck in my head after spending the afternoon drinking champagne with Dani and Zoe—well Dani and I
“This one?” Zoe suggests, pulling out a blush pink peplum cocktail dress with a low V-neck. The whole bodice is covered in pearl sequins, giving the fabric a flashy ‘look at me now’ feel. It’s beautiful, but not me.
I shake my head but even though it isn’t what I’m looking for, I can’t stop looking at it. “It’s damn pretty though,” I say on a sigh.
“I wore it to our engagement party that Noah’s parents threw for us. Probably the same kind of crowd that’ll be there tonight.”
I lift my hands to my forehead and squeeze my eyes shut. “Why did I agree to do this again?” I ask no one.
Dani—of course—answers. “Because it was Doctor Hottie who asked you.”
“As someone with her own hot doctor, that is reason enough,” Zoe says with a laugh.
My head snaps up to look at the two of them. “It’s not like that. We’re just friends.”
“That bang,” Dani adds, helpfully.
“I’m the mother buffer,” I clarify.
“And what exactly does that role entail? Because sleeping with the guy—added bonus, romantic dinner for two—seems out of the mother-buffer job description,” Dani continues.
“You went on a date with him?” Zoe gasps. “How did I not know this? If my husband knew this and didn’t tell me, he’s in so much trouble.”
I sigh—loudly. “It wasn’t a date!”
“Heard that before,” Dani mutters.
I put my fingers in my ears. “La, la, la, I can’t hear you,” I say in a singsong voice before pulling them out again.
“You’re in denial. D. E. N. I. A. L.”
“Oh wow, Dan, you can spell,” Zoe mocks. Dani replies by poking her tongue out at her older sister, but thankfully lets the conversation go.
Zoe’s phone chimes with a text and her fingers swipe over the screen, her eyes narrowing just before her fingers furiously type out a message. “My husband has been holding out on me!”
“That happens after children, I’ve heard,” I retort.
“Ha, fucking, ha. Even after two children, Noah and I have no problem in that department.”
“Gross!” Dani groans, continuing to flick through the hangers in Zoe’s walk-in closet. “It’s bad enough that I’ve heard Cade and Abi going at it. I don’t need the idea of you and Noah in my head, too.
Zoe’s head snaps up, and she looks at me and then her sister. “You’ve heard them? What? When? How . . . ? Why? ”
“Long story,” Dani replies, her cheeks going a lovely shade of red.
“Let’s just say there was a sex battle in our apartment, and we all won,” I explain.
“Knew I wouldn’t want to know,” Zoe mutters.
“So what did Noah not tell you?” Dani asks.
Zoe jabs her finger at her phone, furiously typing out a text. “He knew about the date—”
“Again, not a date . . .” I reiterate.
Zoe waves her hand at me. “Whatever. He just told me you guys have been banging for a while.”
“I wouldn’t say a while . . .” Does a ten-month gap between romps count?
Zoe quirks a brow at me. “How long then?”
I open my mouth to brush her off but yet again, my best friend freely offers the information. “Once last year, then again last weekend after that night out at Throb, and—probably—the other night after their date. ”
“It wasn’t a—”
“Date, we know,” Zoe and Dani reply in unison.
It’s six thirty, and I’m pacing my living room primped, primed and ready to pretend like a pro and Cade’s late. Yes, the man is late. My anxiety levels are sky high, and during the past ten minutes I’ve gone from freaking out to slow, deep breathing, to picking up my phone and going so far as to bring up his name on my phone before quickly putting it back in my purse.
I’m a basket case and as every minute ticks by, I’m second guessing my decision to agree to this fake relationship business—the promise of unlimited orgasms be damned.
Something stuck in my head after spending the afternoon drinking champagne with Dani and Zoe—well Dani and I
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