“Hey, Rory.” A hand shook my shoulder gently and my eyes opened to find Sloane peering at me.
“Hey,” I said, sitting up and causing the book to fall to the floor. “What time is it?” The apartment was dark. I must have slept for hours.
“It’s six. Are you okay?” I must look really terrible or else Sloane would be on me for details about the date and the sex and the bustier.
“I think so. I mean, I told him it would only be one night and it was only one night. I just needed to get him out of my system.” Sloane set some bags down on the counter and came to sit on the couch with me.
“And did you? Get him out of your system?” Honestly?
“No,” I said, and against my will I started to cry. “I mean, I feel like I’m breaking up with him, which is stupid because we’re not dating. I’ve only known him for a few weeks. I shouldn’t feel this way after a few weeks, and a few sexual encounters.”
“How are you supposed to feel?” Sloane took my feet into her lap and started rubbing them. One of her other talents was great foot massages, but she only gave them in emergencies. I’d had quite a few when I’d broken up with Royce.
“I’m supposed to be able to move on with my life. To see him at work and not feel butterflies whenever he smiles or says my name. To not think about him and want him all the time. I’m better than that.”
“Better than what? You’re attracted to him, he’s attracted to you. That’s not a sin, Rory.”
“It is when you work together.”
We both sighed at the same time.
“I’m fucked,” I said.
“Yeah, you kinda are. I wish I could help you.”
“You can distract me. Tell me about Fin and Marisol.” Sloane’s eyes lit up.
“Well, I’d say that the chemistry was definitely there. But you know how she is. No kissing on the first date, let alone sleeping with a guy. I mean, I would get her drunk to test it out, but that doesn’t seem like the best idea. But, they did exchange numbers and eye fuck each other for several hours after you left. I think we have a match.”
“Good. Someone deserves to be happy.” Sloane gave me a sympathetic face.
“I’m making you breakup cake.”
“But we weren’t dating.”
“I know, but I think you need it.” Sloane always made a cake when one of us broke up with someone. It wasn’t any particular type of cake, just whichever one was our favorite. She made it in heart-shaped pans, which was more of a sick joke than anything. My favorite cake was German chocolate with coconut frosting.
“It’s too late cuz I already got the ingredients. You sit there and find something trashy to watch and I’ll make us some dinner, okay?” She kissed my forehead and I nodded.
“Hey, I texted you a million times. Did you turn your phone off?”
“Shit, I did. Can you hand it to me?” Sloane fished in my purse and tossed it to me. I knew she saw the bustier, but didn’t comment.
I turned my phone on and was inundated with messages.
“Fuck!!!” It was Sunday night and I was supposed to be at my parents’ for dinner. I had three missed calls from my mother. Oh God, they probably thought I was dead.
“What?”
“I completely forgot dinner with my parents! What am I going to say?” There was no way I could tell them the truth.
“Give me your phone,” Sloane said, and I handed it to her. She hit a button and put the phone to her ear.
“Mrs. Clarke? Hello, this is Sloane. Yes, I’m calling about Rory . . . No, she’s fine, she’s just very under the weather. We went out for breakfast and I think she had some bad eggs or something. She was puking all morning . . . No, she’s sleeping now . . . I think she just needs to sleep it off and get it out of her system . . . Yes, I will. Okay, Bye.” She handed the phone back to me.
“Done.”
“I feel like I should call and explain,” I said, looking at the phone. I hated lying to my parents.