Page 97 of Unexpected Heroine

However, in true Lettie style, I nearly choke to death on the water I’d forgotten I was drinking.

Perfect. Death by less than an ounce of fluid. Classic me.

Don’t drink and have girl time, y’all. You could drown. Take it from the ghost of Calamity Lettie.

With each cough and sputter, my ribs ache and sting like a band is cinched far too tight around me. Once I stop hacking like a cat with a hairball problem, all eyes are on me.

“You okay, kid?” Kri asks, bending in close.

“Yes, I’m fine,” I fib, staving off a grimace. I don’t want to draw attention to my pain and detract from the fun.

To hopefully throw them off my scent, I toss flippantly, “What are you guys looking at? Ain’t you ever seen someone choking on water? Stella Jean, I’m sure you’re familiar with the concept of choking on it.”

Lifting one shoulder and crooking her head like she’s looking down on me, despite being at my height, Stella says, “I wanted to make sure you were okay. However, since you brought it up, I’ll have you know I never choke on it. No gag reflex. You could shove a Dodge Hemi down there.”

Freya leans in conspiratorially. “That’s impressive. We should let Jonesy know. Might help you seal the deal.” She faces Marley, playing it up. “Do you have his number? Get him on the horn.”

“Oh puh-lease.” Stella flips her hand. “I got fifty bucks and an orgasm that says there wouldn’t be enough meat to choke on. You know what they say about guys like him.”

I shake my head animatedly. “No. Uh-uh. I do not know. Please enlighten me.”

She puckers her lips and makes a show out of rolling her eyes. “Contrary to what you’d think, big dudes aren’t typically hung like horses.” She cricks her pinky finger. “More like horseflies. That’s why they work out so much. Overcompensation.”

Mentally, I sort through the hundreds of penises I’ve seen over the last year working at Bask. Stella has a solid point. Most of the guys with huge ones are skinny and lanky. Then again, James—I mean Tomer—is well-hung. While he’s not a gigantic dude like Jonesy, I’d say he’s above average body build. Maybe I got lucky.

About that one thing in life.

One bit of luck.

Aside from Freya and Stella, that is. But otherwise, my luck is shitty. Then there’s Tomer. A bright light shining through my dark cloud. Comforting me. Calming me. Saving me.

Loving me and all my issues.

Despite being ticked at him for whatever he’s been hiding, I sure miss the man. I hope he comes home soon.

Before I can grab my phone to look to see if he’s texted, I notice Freya waving her hand in my face. Stella is snapping her fingers at me.

I blink, somewhat confused. “What?”

“You totally zoned out. Were you just picturing your boyfriend’s dick?”

“No. I don’t think so. She smiles more when she does that.” Freya leans close to my face and peers into my eyes, as if she could see what I was envisioning. “She was picturing all the other dicks she’s seen.”

Marley giggles into her hand. “Which was it, Lettie? Many dicks or one dick?”

Opening my arms wide in both directions, I declare, “Option C. All the dicks.”

We all break out in cackles, which freaking hurts my damn ribs, so my hilarity dries up almost instantly.

Freya refills her and Stella’s wineglasses, polishing off their second bottle. Again she offers me a drink, and again, I decline.

Not much in the mood for booze, and I don’t think I will be for a while. Occasionally, I get glimpses from the club on the night I was drugged. Not full-on memories. Only tiny slices.

Me spilling my drink.

Laughing too loudly.

Feeling out of control.