Page 53 of The Game Plan
She chuckles at my theatrics. “I’ll overnight a batch,” she promises, licking the icing-covered spatula. I miss her living right down the street and always appearing with a new treat.
The microwave beeps. I prop my phone against a candle, grab a fork, and slide the steaming dish onto a cork placemat at myspot. The aroma hits hard, and my stomach growls once more in appreciation.
With a fork in hand, I climb onto the barstool, reaching for the phone and situating it again.
Finally, Brynn appears on screen, flopping into view on her couch. The camera is aimed directly at her face, and I can see the exhaustion in her eyes. “Is Grant still cooking for you?”
I nod, cheeks full of pasta. “He meal preps for both of us every week. Who knew he could cook this good?”
Chloe sighs dreamily, and I can see her romantic brain spinning. “Oh, he’s so gone for you, Savvy. You don’t meal prep for a woman unless it means something.”
Brynn smirks, nodding. “Preach, Chlo. Meal prep takes for-fucking-ever. He either loves you or wants to fuck you.”
My cheeks warm, and I slow my chewing.
“Savannah!” both girls squeal. Chloe hops onto her counter, bringing the phone closer to her face, while Brynn leans forward, giving us a new angle. Her shirt is missing, and one very obvious boob flops free, still out of her nursing bra from feeding.
“Uh…” I chuckle. “B, your tit is still out.”
She glances down and snorts. “Oh, fuck me. I’m basically a human milk machine. I don’t even notice anymore. Enjoy the show?” she asks, wiggling her eyebrows.
Chloe dissolves into laughter while I shake my head, swallowing the bite of pasta.
Leaning forward, Brynn tries to snap the flap of fabric back into place before huffing backward. She grabs a burp cloth and flings it over her shoulder like it’ll cover anything. “Fucking clasp is broken. Whatever…it’s not like you both haven’t seen it all before.”
“That’s completely valid,” Chloe adds. One thing about my best friend, Brynn Wilder, is that she’s allergic to clothes. There’s no such thing as modesty in her dictionary.
“Yeah, so don’t pretend to be scandalized now…” she trails off as she squints at the screen.
“Hold on. What’s that?”
I pause mid-chew and lean closer to the screen, trying to see if there’s something unusual in Chloe’s split screen. Chloe does the same, leaning closer, eyes squinting.
“Oh my god!” Brynn’s voice rises as her eyes widen. “Savannah Holycross, is that abitemark on your collarbone?”
I nearly choke.
Chloe gasps. “Oh my god! I knew that glow wasn’t from pregnancy. You got—”
“Dicked down!” Brynn squeals.
“Yes!” Chloe yells. “A post-fucked glow.”
“I’m blaming you!” I shout, pointing at Chloe. “You gave me that audiobook recommendation, and I listened to it on my hot-mama walk and, well…I got all hot and bothered.”
Chloe clutches her chest like I wounded her. “It’s not my fault your brain and body were already halfway there. I gave you the nudge!”
“No, Grant gave her the nudge…in her vagina!” Brynn deadpans. “That book needed a damn safety warning. It was so fucking delicious. And you”—she points at me—“ have the face of a woman who got rearranged in the best way.”
I snort so loud, I’m lucky the water I drank didn’t come out of my nose. “Oh my god! I hate you both.”
Chloe rolls her eyes. “Please, you love us, Savvy.”
“Unfortunately.” I chuckle.
“But seriously, did he maul you?” Chloe asks.
“I didnotget mauled,” I whisper defensively, but I can feel the smirk tugging at the corners of my mouth.
