Page 50 of The Weight Of It All
I had no doubt. And I could almost feel how good those calloused hands would scrape against my skin and how they’d feel as he manhandled me around the bed. “Oh yeah.”
Anika nodded slowly. “You’re picturing it right now, aren’t you?”
“Shut up.”
She clapped her hands together and stood up. “On that note, we’ll be off.”
Sean shot to his feet. “Yes. Because God knows, Henry doesn’t need to hear more about our sex life. I’m really sorry about that.”
“Don’t apologise,” I replied. “I like learning new things about my friends.”
Sean rolled his eyes, and Anika kissed my cheek. “Love you, Henry. And for what it’s worth, I think you should take a chance with Reed. And if it doesn’t work out, then at least you get to have great sex with a guy with a horse dick.”
Sean dragged her to the front door. “I’m consideringlimiting your consumption of wine when you two are together.”
They got half out the door when Anika tried to whisper and failed. “And I’m considering pegging you again when we get home.”
Sean stopped, looked at Anika, then at me, then cleared his throat. Without a word, he turned and led Anika down the path. I closed the door with a smile and spent the next hour cleaning my kitchen.
I fell into bed, happy. Happy with the new direction, happy with the possibilities of what might be.
I didn’t know if it included Reed. But I couldn’t wait to find out.
Nine
Monday morning draggedits sorry self through a tide of meetings, deadlines, and reports. The highlight was the morning tea, which Diana from Projections had brought in for her contribution to the cook and share thing that I had apparently started. She’d made some thin pastry-type tart topped with roasted beetroot, feta cheese, and balsamic glaze, which, according to her, she’d bastardised from her grandmother’s traditional Turkish recipe.
And oh my God. It wassogood. I took a quick photo on my phone, claiming it was so I could replicate the recipe later.
“You’re sending it to Reed, aren’t you?” Melinda asked.
I attached it to a message, hit send, and looked up from my phone. “Of course.”
She rolled her eyes. “How is it possible that you’re losing weight with all this food you do?”
Before I could answer, my phone beeped. It was Reed.
Looks good. When are you making that for me?
When you make me that lamb salad you keep promising but fail to deliver.
Ouch. What about this Saturday?
Aren’t you doing that trainer’s challenge on Saturday?
Yes. In the afternoon. Last I heard, dinner is usually in the evening.
Ouch. Your place? Or mine?
Yours.
Melinda interrupted my texting. “If you keep smiling like that, people will think you’re watching porn on your phone.”
“I’m not smiling at my phone.” I had to physically make myself pout so I wasn’t smiling. “I’m doing lip stretches.”
“Mmhm,” Melinda deadpanned.
I leaned across our lunch table and whispered, “And who smiles when they’re watching porn?”
