Petting under clothes:good
Mouth above waist:good
Mouth below waist: …
I take a long gulp of mimosa.
Mouth below waist:hard maybe
What the hell is wrong with you? This list is something Rosie Jetson would make.
Wow, just wow. It’s really telling when your subconscious keeps reminding you what a stiff lay you are.
With any luck, though, Wes will help me with that.
I toss the notepad in a drawer and decide that throwing myself into work is the better option.
Unfortunately, my resolve doesn’t last long, and my mind returns to last night’s kiss.
God, what am I doing?
I pick up my phone and text the one person I know that can help me.
Angela.
Jenna
“I knew it was too good to be true.” Angela doesn’t even try to hide the annoyance in her tone.
“It’s not my fault,” I plead. “It just happened.”
“Well, I have to admit, I’m jealous—and that’s never happened with you. I mean, what was there ever to be jealous of?”
“Don’t act like I took something from you. Your Little Pink Book could rival Leonardo DiCaprio’s. You have options.”
“That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to commemorate Wes in notch form on my bedpost.”
I shake my head in distaste.
Something about Angela is off, though. Her fingers tap nervously against her glass, which if you’ve ever spent any amount of time with her, you’d know she’s never nervous. Nothing unsettles her.
Finally, she blurts out, “If you really want my advice, I’d tell you to back out while you can.”
“You opportunistic little—”
“It’s not like that. Like you said, I have options.” She takes a sip of her drink. “We’ve been friends for a while now, and I’d like to think that we know each other. Weston is important to you, and risking that for a good lay is as bad an idea as they come.”
Angela’s words are wise, albeit unexpected coming from her.
“You’re right.”
“But you’re not going to listen to me.”
“Right again.”
“God, Jen, you’re always so well-measured. This just isn’t you.”
“The problem is, being well-measured hasn’t worked for me.”