Page 95 of Make the Play

I exhale, letting my shoulders drop. Maybe itwasa one-off.

The phone lights up.

That’s between us and God??????

Charlie: Bump check! 7 months and waddling like a penguin ??

Claire:You look SO GOOD. That bump is elite.

Tamara:You look smug. Is it because you finally got your revenge foot rub?

Charlie:YUP. Jake did the full spa treatment last night. Soaked, scrubbed, lotioned

Lulu:Iconic behavior. If I ever get pregnant, I wanna be pampered and feared like a tiny goddess.

Claire:Okay but we are NOT getting distracted.

Tamara:ZOE.

Charlie:Yes. Let’s discuss.

Lulu:You survived your first night cohabiting with Chase

Zoe:Barely.

Tamara:Are you walking funny or what?

Lulu:We all know what went down last night.

Zoe:Nothing went down.

Charlie:Except you.

Zoe:OH MY GOD.

Lulu:This is a safe space. Just tell us how many times he made you see God.

Tamara:Zoe. Babe. It’s us. You can just say he railed you so hard you blacked out.

Zoe:I’m going to throw my phone into the sun.

Charlie:You’re dating a pro athlete. Stamina. Testosterone. Don’t lie to the woman actively experiencing the results of it.

Zoe:Can we not?

Claire:Come on, you’ve been fake flirting for years, now you’re actually dating, and he MOVES YOU IN to keep you safe? He’s feral for you and we all know it.

I don’t respond to that. Because if I do, I’ll have to play along, and that requires imagining him railing me. Which he technically has, and then that means I’m crafting a lie built on actual real-life experience, using very real memories of his hands, his mouth, his everything.

Which would be fine, except I’m currently living in his condo. Surrounded by his scent. His stupid, perfect face. His bare Calvin Klein chest and the damn coffee mug that says I’m hotter than his Americano.

So, I don’t play along. Instead, I deflect.

Zoe:He told me I have to wear his jersey at the home opener.

Tamara:Well duh

Claire:That’s the WAG starter pack, babe.

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