The Real

“Well,” she started without taking a breath, “we’d just had the best sex of our lives.”

“Wait,” I said as the cocktail waitress approached, and I ordered us two Pimm’s Cups.

Bree quirked a brow. “Are you sure you want to hear this? You sounded pissed on the phone.”

“Jesus, Bree,” I whispered defensively. “Of course, I want to know everything. You’re my person. And jealousy aside, which I am admitting to, you look so happy. I’m fucking over the moon about this. I love you and Anthon

y together.”

It was obvious she was chomping at the bit to tell me more. Bree was a big personality in a tiny package at a little over five feet and a few inches. But when she spoke, you instantly knew she was the most dominant female in the room. With her honey blond hair, expressive brown eyes, and mouth like a sailor, she could be intimidating to those who had just met her. But beneath her brash exterior lay an amazing and loyal heart.

“Abbie, he was so open to everything on this trip. It was like I was seeing a new side of him. I can’t even explain it. I mean, we’ve traveled all over now, but this was different. So different.”

I listened as she spoke about the start of their trip. Bree was known to push boundaries for the greater good. And her fiancé, though mostly conservative, had stepped up to the challenge of courting my best friend, which was no easy feat.

After a few minutes of Bree’s chatter, my demeanor changed because her excitement was infectious, and I fed off it until my spirits lifted.

Why worry about a man when you’re lucky enough to have a friend like Bree? I no longer felt guilty for being a little dependant on her because Bree was the shit.

“Okay, okay, get to the good stuff.”

“Well,” she began with a devilish grin. “We were at the fairy pools.”

“And?” I said, taking my glass from the waitress with a “thank you.”

I took a healthy sip and toasted with my best friend. “Congrats, baby. Drinks are on me.”

“They are always on you,” she said with an eye roll.

“Say thank you,” I said dryly.

“Thank you. Anyway, we were going at it like rabbits, in broad daylight. Oh,” she said with a hand to her chest like a coquettish southern belle, which was apt. She was Georgia bred and hadn’t dropped her accent since we met at Northwestern. “I can’t even. He was everywhere, and I mean everywhere.” Her lips twisted into a wry smile. “I’ve never had it so good. I need him. I have to be with him. I just knew, so I told him so.”

“This was postcoital, right?”

“Yes and no. This was between round one and two.”

“Aren’t the fairy pools a major tourist spot?”

“We had one close call and then took it on the road,” she said with a wink. “We christened the whole of Scotland.”

“Sweet Anthony, he was so innocent,” I muttered, taking another mind-numbing sip of my drink. “Poor guy. You ruined his virtue.”

“I’ve told you this once, and I’m telling you again, anal is how you get them to propose.”

I barked out a laugh as she waggled her brows. “Hey, this is my third proposal by a different man. Numbers don’t lie. I just decided to accept this one.”

“Your ass is tired, huh?”

“Don’t be crude,” she scolded playfully.

“God, I love you,” I admitted truthfully. “Please continue.”

“It was so beautiful. You know me, Abbie, and you know I’m a total sucker for scenery, but Scotland really is magical. And it wasn’t just the sex. It was being with him and just knowing. It was so . . . seamless. Like kismet or fate or destiny, all that shit you don’t believe in. I’d just had his perfect penis, and we were so disgusting, but he just looked at me and I said yes. He didn’t even have to ask. That’s how on another level we were.”

She was so happy; her eyes were literally shining.

“You know you can count on me for whatever you need, right? I’m so happy for you.”