Page 25 of Secrets in Love
“Excellent. I’m rich, single, and in New York. How could it not be?”
“Fair point, old lady.”
“Okay. Stop insulting me and tell me what happened on your non-date? Did he kiss you? Gasp! Was it bad? Did he smell like fish and have a slimy tongue to match?”
I almost slipped back under the water. “What the hell, Jocie!”
Her nose bobbed up and down with laughter. “So, did he kiss you or not?”
“Not,” I snapped.
“You wanted him to kiss you, but he didn’t? Ouch.”
“Nope, not that either.”
“Just bloody tell me what was so awful, then?”
“Ughh.”
Without giving her something, I wasn’t getting out of that tub in the foreseeable future, so I divulged it all. The lovely walk we had taken to the coffee shop, how he walked so close beside me I almost tripped on his huge feet, and that our fingers had brushed against the other’s so deliciously that a little zip of undefinable energy rushed through me each time. “He was charming, sweet, and attentive, and then I ruined it—or Todd and his stupid coffee did.”
Jocelyn responded with hmms and uh-huhs as I described my abhorrent, mother-cursing behavior and the subsequent walk of shame back to the studio. According to my aunt, I wasn’t so out of line.
“I would have been angry. He should have defended you, not chastised you.”
“Right!” I squealed, jumping to my feet and almost falling straight back on my ass.” At first, I thought that too, but I’ve guilted myself into thinking I was the one in the wrong. I know how bristly I can be.”
“Nope. I’m Team Evie all the way. I get that he is a regular there, and the swearing may have been jolting, but that should have made him all the more confident in coming to your aid.”
Climbing from the bath, I wrapped a towel around myself and opened the door. “You are biased, though, and can I trust your opinion?”
“Of course you can. You know how brutally honest I am. Remember your last haircut?”
A flashback of the epic failure that was my attempt to rock Taylor Swift bangs flashed before my eyes. “How could I forget?” I muttered.
I moved to exit the bathroom, but she blocked me. “Why don’t you seek another opinion. Nate’s, for example.”
“Jeepers, Jocie. Do you think I would trust Nate if I doubted your independence? Besides, I don’t want to tell him.” Again, I tried to brush past her, and again I was blocked.
“Why not, Evie?”
“Are you going to let me pass, or do I have to knock you down? ‘Cause you know I will.”
“Answer the question, and then you’re free to go.”
“No!”
“We may as well sit on the floor and wait it out, then. I am not moving.” We both dropped to the floor and stubbornly stared at each other. I’m sad to say this was not the first time we’ve stooped to this level. It was stupid, but Jocelyn and I had had many sit-in-style arguments over the years. Our hereditary fiery constitutions meant neither wanted to let the other win.
Goosebumps covered my quivering flesh as we entered the fifth minute of silence. The warm serenity of the bath was a mere memory. I was freezing my ass off and beginning to panic. I had to collect Iris from school. My mental calculations told me I had about fifteen minutes to play with. I just had to hold on.
Jocie’s eyes danced with mischief. She and the warm, fluffy, woolen sweater she wore could see and were delighted by my shivering. She could read my thoughts, too, just as I could hers. But I remained silent.
Time moved slowly when you were sitting on cold tiles.
“Goddamn you, woman! I don’t want to ask Nate because I like him, and I’m his number-one girl, and I don’t want him to know I went out with Christian again…or what a fucking—”
“Language, Evie.”
