Love Under Construction (Love By Design 1)

“Oh God, I’m hungover. Can’t it wait until I have like two cups of coffee first, love?” Kristen’s hair was in a bun high on her head like a pompom of dark hair. It swayed precariously as she opened and closed cabinets, getting the supplies for her old school coffee maker.

“I don’t think this can wait.”

“Ugh, I needed a nap or an exorcism. My head is killing me.” Kristen said from the kitchen resuming her hunt for mugs, hunched over grumbling.

I called out across the room while I organized, or at least attempt to organize the mess on her coffee table that made my fingers twitchy trying to size the envelopes up in some kind of order. “Maybe if you cut back on the alcohol you wouldn’t feel like a bus ran you over.”

“Tay—this is the last time in my life I’ll be in my mid-twenties. Let me sow some damn oats while I still can.” Kristen ignored me and while she had a point I also didn’t relish the idea of pickling my liver before I was thirty.

My mouth took on a life of its own and blurted out the unexpected. “I slept with Hunter last night.”

The apartment went quiet and I swear a pin dropped.

“The hell you say…” She pulled down two coffee mugs, muttering, and closed the cabinet with a bang. She faced the windowsill in front of the sink before rummaging in the cabinet below. “I’m gonna need something stronger than coffee.” Kristen riffled through the cabinets until she found a bottle of half drank peach schnapps. Unscrewing the top, she guzzled an obscene amount.

“I thought you were hungover?” I hoped this wasn’t going to be earth shattering news to my best friend.

“Hon—your cooter just got attacked by your life-long crush. Find the fucking OJ so we can celebrate or commiserate. Your choice.” Her voice croaked and I decided we needed to celebrate this life-changing event after all.

I looked for the orange juice and the chilled vodka I knew was left over in the freezer.

Turning too late, Kristen was back guzzling the schnapps down with a vengeance. “Hey! Share that!”

Kristen pulled the neck of the bottle away from her lips, looking me over with raised eyebrows.

“You tell your BFF you just shagged the dark horse without a warning and expect a rational answer?”

That was news to me. “Do they really call Hunter the dark horse?”

Her eyes narrowed with accusation and I guessed it was true, but still—were we really that much of a long shot? We’d known each other for years. Our friends, or at least Kristen, hinted that we’d look good together as a couple, but I brushed it off.

“You sure you want an answer to that question?”

“Yeah, you’re right, probably not.” I shook the orange juice container and lifted the vodka in my other hand, hoping Kristen would lay off the booze long enough to share.

She shrugged and put the schnapps on the counter.

“Screwdrivers ought to do it. Umm… unless you’re going to tell me you took it in the prune shoot because that’s gonna need something stronger.”

Shaking my head no, she sighed, pouring the drinks a bit heavy-handed before giving me the coffee mug of sweet OJ and alcohol.

We moved into the living room, sitting on the couch and sipped in silence. Neither of us s

aid anything, letting the moment hang between us with a heaviness I didn’t expect to feel the morning after.

“You know, I kind of expected you to tell me something different.” She said to me letting our mugs join each other mutually on the coffee table letting them clink together. The air was thick, emotional. It wasn’t regret, but I felt something shift not only in my relationship with Hunter but with my best friend. We had always backed each other up even when we were separated at different schools. I wasn’t ready to explore both until one resolved itself.

“Like?” Hungover Kristen usually needed some prompting.

“It’s always the quiet ones who are into kinky shit.” Leave it to Kristen to take this confessional into the gutter. Her own escapades in college were enough for both of us.

“Really? We didn’t have anal sex,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.

“No, but you did make out with your roommate from college. What was her name? The cupcake girl?”

“Carmen. We’re still friends, by the way.” I picked up my mug sipping my drink.

“I still don’t know how I feel about that.” Kristen adjusted her robe giving me the side-eye.