“No clue. Did you get the friends details at all?”
He shakes his head but from the look on his face, he’s full of shit. Something happened last night, I’d bet my left nut on it. But I know Preston Knight; he will keep this secret to himself until he’s ready to share. That’s one of the things I love most about the guy, he is loyal to a T.
Not wanting to bring him down with my foul mood, I say goodbye and head home to bed. Lying in my bed, I think about Avery, the one who got away. She helped me get over my blue balls, but now, it's my mind that’s all messed up.
10
Avery
Cress is the bestest friend ever. Twenty minutes after I arrive home, she turns up with wine, ice cream, and a gorgeous little girl. “Lexi, how you doing?”
“I’m good, Aunty A. I got to sleep at Nana’s last night and then this morning, Mommy took me to the park and I got an ice cream.”
“So I can see. What flavor did you get?”
“Mint chocolate chip.”
“Yummo, my fav.” Her face is all sticky and there’s a chocolate splotch down the front of her My Little Pony shirt. At the moment, Lexi is obsessed with everything associated with that show. “You wanna watch some Pony while Mom and I chat in the kitchen?”
“Yessssss,” she squeals in delight. She races into the living room and pulls out her beanbag and settles in while I switch it on. The theme song starts and I walk into the kitchen to find that my uber awesome best friend has a glass of wine waiting for me.
“Okay, spill,” she says, as she hands me a glass of wine.
Taking the wine from her, I take a huge gulp, followed by another. “Okay, Chuggy McChuggerson, slow down there,” she teases, as she takes the glass from me and tops it up—see, bestest friend ever.
Looking to her, my freak-out erupts with vigor. Tears well in my eyes. My chest becomes tight. Breathing is difficult. “Cress, I’m a big fat whore,” I cry as Cress envelops me in a hug and lets me cry into her shoulder. “I slept with him so many times and it was ducking amazing.” We don’t swear when Lex is around. “It was the best ducking sex of my life. I’m surprised I’m not waddling today. When he was asleep, I snuck out, and now I feel guilty for leaving him like that. I can’t even apologize for being such a ducking whore. At least I folded his clothes before I left.”
She pulls away, holding me at arm’s length and pulls a confused face. “You folded his clothes?”
Nodding my head up and down, I confirm, “Yeah, when I slipped my dress back on, I picked his clothes up, folded them, and placed them neatly on the coffee table.”
Cress laughs at me. “Only you would have a one-night stand and then clean before leaving.”
“Cress,” I whine, “I’m a big fat whore.”
“NO!,” she shouts, wiping under my eyes with her thumb. “You are a sexy single gal, who had a fantabulous night ducking a hot guy.”
“But—”
“NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!” she scolds. “Avery Evans, look at me.” I lift my gaze to hers. “One night of amazing sex does not make you a whore. Did he pay you?”
“No.”
“Then by definition you are not a whore, maybe a skank but definitely not a whore.”
“Takes a skank to know a skank.”
And just like that, all my whore fears are erased, but now I feel guilty for leaving. “Stop with the guilts for sneaking out,” Cress says, giving me the mom eye she has down pat.
“How did you know?”
“I know all your tics,” she nonchalantly says, she hands me my wine and this time, I take a small sip and savor the crispness of the white. “Now, listen to me, I will only say this once. You will not call yourself a whore for having fantabulous sex. You will not feel guilty for sneaking out like the harlot who I’m finally able to call my best friend. I’m proud, wee skankhopper. We, well you, are going to put last night with the sexy Scottish—”
“Irish.”
“You are going to put last night with that sexy Irish doctor into the flick bank and move on.”
“I knew you were my best friend for a reason. In half—”
“Three quarters,” she teases.
“Fine, in three-quarters of a glass of wine, you’ve eased my fears and I feel like me again.”
“Happy to be of service. Now, I want all the sexy filthy details.”
Shaking my head, I take a sip. “Nope, last night is firmly locked away in my, what did you call it?”
“Flick bank,” she offers.
“Yes, flick bank. Last night is safely locked away there. Now, I’m going to have a shower ‘cause I smell like sex. You can order dinner and then we can watch My Little Pony with Lexi.”
“Can’t we watch something else?” she cries.
“Do you want to enrage your daughter?”
“Fair point.”
With my wine glass in hand, I step out of the kitchen to go have a shower. Turning around, I pop my head back in, and say, “Cress, thanks for being you and calming me down.”
“You are most welcome, babe. It's not often I get to rescue you, so it's nice to repay the favor for once…even if you won’t spill the sexy schmexy details with your BFF.”
“Love you,” I call out, as I walk down the hallway to my room.
Cress really is the best friend I could ask for. Baylor used to share that spot with Cress, but in the last few weeks she’s changed. I don’t like the person she’s turning into, not that I’ve really seen her. She’s been MIA more times than not. I really hope she’s okay, but my gut and twin instinct tell me she’s spiraling out of control and she’s about to crash and burn.
11
Flynn
…three weeks later
I’ve taken an extra shift in the ER and I’m seriously regretting it. It’s insanely busy today, and not just because we are short-staffed. It must be a full moon or something has been slipped into the water supply, because the cases today are batshit crazy and the patients all seem to be angry assholes with asshole family members or friends with them. With another chart in hand, I pull back the curtain, step in, look to the bed, and pause midstep. My eyes pop wide open when I see whom my next patient is…looks like picking up this extra shift wasn’t such a bad idea after all. With a grin on my face, I casually say, “Hi.” Stopping at the end of her bed. My eyes rake up and down her body. My eyes land on hers, but something is amiss.
“Well, hello there, handsome,” she replies, her eyes lighting up but they aren’t as vibrant as I remember and her hair seems lighter, but the lighting in here sucks and it has been three weeks since I last saw her. “Who knew hurting myself could be a good thing,” she says, her voice deeper than I recall.
“How are you?” I ask, not the question I should be asking right now, but this woman has constantly been on my mind for the last three weeks, hell, I’ve even dreamed about her.
My eyes are locked on hers and my mind drifts to our night of unbridled passion together.