“The old partner you had on one job?” Vi asked. “One job where you nearly died, I might add?”
“That’s the one.”
“Where has he been?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Well, why is he back?” Vi demanded.
“I don’t know,” Hope repeated. “But he is. And it’s like our boss is fucking with me because of it. I am getting every dangerous job while the rest of them sit on their asses in cars doing fucking surveillance.”
“Quit that fucking job, Hope,” Violet demanded. “Come work with me. We can chase skips together. It would be a lot more fun than dealing with those dickheads you work with.”
“It’s halfway tempting,” Hope said. “But if I do that before I get what I want, all of this,” she said, waving at her midsection, “will be for nothing.”
“What is it for?” I asked. “I don’t understand. You’re a strong, smart, and capable woman. Why does their validation matter so much?”
“I don’t know,” Hope admitted, and for a horrifying second, there were tears in her eyes before she blinked them away. Hope never cried. Never. I’d literally seen her impale her hand on a knife once and all she did was bitch about how long it was going to take to heal. No tears. “It just does. And I can’t make it not matter. So I have to deal with it.”
“That’s really not—“ I started.
“I don’t want a lecture, Bills. I know you mean well. And I love you for caring so much, but I don’t want a lecture.”
“Okay. How about I put some salve on that for you instead of giving you a lecture?” I asked. “And then maybe we can invite everyone over for a girls night.”
“Don’t you want to have sex swing x-rated fun with your annoyingly perfect man?” Violet grumbled.
“He’s out of town tonight. They’re, you know, handling that whole… Knuckles or whatever thing finally. I just wanted to get the swing set up for when he gets back.”
“Well, if we can track down the girls and they are willing to catch whatever she’s got,” Hope said, waving at Violet, “then I’m game.”
Did we all end up with head colds?
Yep.
Yes, we absolutely did.
But it was worth it.
Men were amazing.
But you always had to have your girls too.
Always.
Rowe - 2.5 months
“You okay?” I asked as Billie glanced around her bare apartment. She looked lost. And I felt an almost immediate surge of concern that I’d asked her to move in with me too quickly, that she hadn’t really gotten a chance to process it.
But, well, her lease was about to be up.
So it was either ask her before then, or have her paying another year, and the two of us bouncing back and forth between the two places. It just made sense to make the move. But that was easy for me to say since I wasn’t the one giving anything up.
“I, ah, I don’t know,” Billie admitted. “I’m going to miss Manuel,” she admitted.
“Well, you can be like Layna and subscribe to his naked poetry readings,” I suggested.
“That’s true,” she agreed.
“Do you want to change your mind? We can wait. We don’t have to rush into this.”
“It’s not rushing,” she was quick to object. “I’ve wanted this for a really long time. But I’ve never, you know, had a place that wasn’t my own.”
“It will be yours too, baby. And if you don’t think it will be, then we’re not ready for this step,” I told her, running my thumb down her jaw, then tracing under her lower lip. “I want you at the farmhouse. I want crystals on the counters and rose quartz by the front door.”
“Well, that would be silly,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Rose quartz is for self-love, not protection. You mean selenite or black tourmaline.”
“Of course, that’s exactly what I meant,” I agreed with a smile. “And I want your crazy colors splashed everywhere. And that weird cult music playing while—“
“That is Tibetan meditation music,” Billie objected.
“And I want to watch you from the front porch when your perfect ass sticks out while you bend into downward dog during your morning yoga session,” I added, reaching behind her to give her ass a squeeze.
“I like that. I can see it. Keep going,” she demanded, stepping forward into my arms, resting her face against my chest.
I was finally out of my fucking brace unless I was going to be on my feet and moving all day, in which case the doctor advised I might want the extra support. But the day I finally got to take the damn thing off and feel my woman against my skin with nothing but thin material—or nothing at all—between us had been a really good day.
“Okay. I’m looking forward to coming home from work to find you in the kitchen brewing up your teas or soups or whatever, dancing around to that new-agey, high-vibe shit.”