Page 67 of Darlin'

"Uh-huh," Jesse hums, staring at me with a puzzled look as he fumbles to pull his pants back up. "You?—"

"I'd like some privacy now," I say, nodding out the door. "Wouldn't want todistractyou again."

Obediently, Jesse leaves the bathroom, wobbly anduncoordinated. With a giggle, I smile at myself in the mirror, grateful for free porn and WikiHow.

I wink at the hot mess staring back at me. "Good girl."

"Earth to Savannah!"Pippa sings as another text from Jesse pops up on my phone. "Sav?"

Dang. Fourth unanswered text in the last hour and a half. It's not like I'mtryingto play games with him, but the man already knows what I'm doing, so why bother asking? And since when does he care what Pippa made for dinner? I reply back to Jesse, telling him he can pick me up in another hour. He sends a thumbs up. Back to regular programming.

"Savannah!" Marlow throws a piece of popcorn at my head from the other side of the living room. "Get off your fucking phone. You can flirt with JP later."

"Flirt?!" Pippa exclaims, choking on her margarita. I snap up in alert and toss my head to the side, glaring at Marlow. "You're flirting with JP?" She glances at Marlow, who sinks deeper into the reclining chair, avoiding either of our stares. "No..." Pippa whips her attention in my direction. "You and JP?! Really?"

I wince, pulling my knees up to my chest. "It's not a big deal, Pip."

"Not a big deal?" Pippa uncrosses her legs and scoots to the edge of the couch. "It's ahugedeal, and why, might I ask, was I not aware of said huge deal?" She crosses her arms as I fiddle with the printed-out plans for the fundraiser sprawled on the carpet. "Well?"

"Why don't we get back to what's important, okay?" I attempt to change the topic as I place my brainstorming sheet on the coffee table. "I was thinking we can do a little bake sale, maybe? And it might be fun to auction off some things. Maybe a guitar or bike, or even like a lesson or something?" I force a smile. "I can auction off a yoga lesson, for example."

"Yeah, uh-huh, sure," Pippa hums, clicking her tongue. "Excellent ideas, Savannah. All approved. Now that that's out of the way—" She tilts her head. "Let's hear it. I want all the sordid details." She grabs a bag of chips. "Don't leave anything out."

"Why?" I groan, dropping my head backward. "I don't want to talk about it."

Pippa scoffs. "This isn't about whatyouwant, Savannah; this is about whatwe, as yourfriends, deserve to hear." Pippa's kids scream in the background, and she winces. "Especially me." She feigns a pout. "Let this mama live through you, okay?Please?"

"Your guilt tripping won't work on me, Pip," I say, playfully narrowing my eyes. "I know your kind. I'm very familiar with these sorts of tricks."

"Come on," Pippa whines like a child, glancing over at Marlow. "Mar! Help me out here!"

"She's not gonna drop this, Sav," Marlow says, tossing popcorn in the air and catching it in her mouth. "Might as well spill the beans, or else we'll be here til dawn."

"Fine!" I concede with a huff, sitting up straight. "Well, I guess this actually all started when you gave me that book."

Pippa frowns. "What book?"

I shoot her a knowing scowl. “Thatbook.”

"No fucking way!" Pippa beams as she releases a boisterous laugh. "That's awesome. In a small way, it's like I'm your pimp. So? How did it happen? Where did it happen? How many times? Was it good?"

Oh boy.

For the next forty-five minutes, I give Pippa and Marlow a play-by-play of my timeline with Jesse, spilling more details the longer I talk uninterrupted. My friends gobble up every word as I bring everyone up to date on my sexual shenanigans.

"You should call him that," Pippa finally says, refilling her marg glass as she nibbles on a hard shell taco. "It's hot."

"No way," I say, shaking my head. "I can't say that with a serious face. It's gross. It's like...incestual."

"Oh, grow up, Sav." Pippa rolls her eyes. "It's the same thing as calling someonebaby. Are they really your baby? Your offspring? Your child? No. It's like a term of sexy endearment."

"Yeah." Marlow snorts, legs flung over the side of the armchair. "He's not yourdaddy,daddy; he's yourdickdaddy." She wiggles her brows, chucking. "Dick Daddy Jesse. Got a nice ring to it."

"I'm sorry, but I can't do it," I protest, popping a pretzel in my mouth. "It's just not in my nature. I'm not?—"

"Also," Pippa interrupts me, "I think we've got to work on your dirty talk a bit."

I blink. "My dirty talk?"

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