Page 65 of The Best Bad Decision

“Okay, fine,” I admit. “It was more than good.”

Ruth lets out a whispered screech, hands flapping towards me in excitement.

“Did you—”

“Yes,” I interrupt. “I did. We did.” Her eyes widen with a silent question. “Fuck, Roo, I’m—he’s incredible.”

“He looks it,” she agrees. “He looks like he’d absolutely destroy your cunt and you’d still beg for more.”

“He does,” I confirm slyly, pouring hot water and then milk into both coffee cups. “Repeatedly.”

“Amie!”

“What?” I ask.

“Jesus Christ, it’s not even eleven. You can’t give me that kind of detail while I’m working. Call Lo and Katy, let’s have a girls’ night tomorrow before you leave for Christmas. Leave Big Dick Cam with Maisy.”

“Please don’t talk about his dick in relation to my daughter,” I beg, laughing.

“A, Baby Cakes, you know that’s how you got Maisy in the first place, right?” Ruth winks as she shoves the last of her belongings into her work tote and swings it up onto her shoulder, then picks up her duffel bag from under the table. We move towards the front door.

“I do know, I was there,” I answer drily, laughing. “I’ll give them a call. I’m pretty sure Katy’s off tomorrow.”

“Great. Come over, bring wine. Any time after seven.” She slips out of the door and closes it with a quiet click.

The following night, I press the buzzer at the door of Ruth’s apartment building just as Paloma sidles up beside me, wrapped tightly in a wool pea coat. A thick scarf is wound around her neck, a fuzzy beret sits at a jaunty angle over her red hair and gloved hands clutch a bottle of our favourite Sauvignon Blanc as she hugs herself, teeth chattering against the cold.

“Let us in, Roo,” she yells into the intercom. “It’s fucking freezing!”

The door unlocks with a click and we let ourselves in, climbing the four flights of stairs to Roo’s apartment. She may only be on the fourth floor of the small tower block but the views from her large windows are still spectacular, and her blinds are still open, treating us to a panoramic view of London by night.

An old Taylor Swift album is playing from the vinyl player in the corner when we walk in and Katy is already in the kitchen, chopping vegetables and tossing them into a frying pan.

“I fancied margaritas so I brought stuff for tacos, I hope that’s okay.” She waves hello with the knife in her hand.

Ruth appears from her bedroom then, kissing us both hello and making a dramatic show of carrying all of Paloma’s outdoor clothing to the cupboard that doubles as her coat closet.

“So, Amie had a fun trip to New York,” Ruth says with a sly grin as we balance plates of tacos on our laps. She has a perfectly good breakfast bar but we chose to lounge on her huge sectional sofa instead, enjoying the twinkling lights outside the windows.

Katy and Lo perk up, looking to me with matching eager grins.

“For fuck’s sake, Roo,” I whine, swallowing a mouthful of onion and pepper. “Can you at least let me stuff my face with a taco first?”

She laughs and then swallows a large mouthful of her second margarita.

“No, because then you’d wuss out and you wouldn’t tell K and Lo how Cam stuffed your face with his dick.”

“He did WHAT?”

“Excuse the fuck out of you.”

Katy and Paloma speak over each other, eyes wide, demanding more of the story. Ruth grins innocently, bringing her drink back to her lips and sipping again.

“We… had sex,” I say carefully. These girls know everything—everything—about my life. Telling them was the first thing I did when I lost my virginity. Katy was the one I called after my night with Cam in Singapore. They’ve been there through everything. “Four—no, five times. No, six, if you count him fingering me in the car park at work before I drove home.”

“Fucking hell.” Katy throws back half of her drink in one gulp. “And what, are you a thing now? Are you just fucking him?”

I lock eyes with her. Katy-cat, my best friend. Although Ruth and Paloma are my best friends, I’ve always been closest to Katy. We’ve had each other’s backs for decades. She’s my ride or die, and she knows me better than absolutely anyone in the world. The concern in her gaze breaks me.

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