Blame it on the Vodka (Blame it on the Alcohol)

“Okay,” Vera said, throwing me off. I expected at least another five minutes of battle.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay. If that’s where you’re at, then that’s where you’re at,” Nova said.

“We’ll allow you to bury your head in the sand—for now,” Vera explained. “But because we’re your friends, we also get to tell you that you’re only pushing off what you’ll have to face at some point, and the more you push it off, the worse it will get.”

“It’s like turning up the heat, but only holding the lid on tighter—eventually it’s going to release,” Nova added.

“Maybe it won’t,” I suggested hopefully. “Maybe we’ll get it out of our systems, and it will be fine.”

Their forced smiles did not fill me with hope. They may allow me to bury my head, but they weren’t going to pretend to believe the lies I told myself.

“Listen,” I sighed. “You can hound me later. Austin’s going to be here any minute, and I just can’t find a better answer than that right now.”

Vera held up her hands in surrender. “We’ll set a formal date for more hounding.”

“For now, we’ll be in the group text to chat about if Layla finally goes home tonight,” Nova said, directing the conversation back to safer topics like Monday night television.

I latched on to the branch to pull myself free of the deep conversation. “God, I hope so. She may be the worst one in all the seasons ever.”

“Homegirl is cra-ay-zee,” Vera agreed, making us laugh. When we sobered, she gave me a soft smile. “You really do look stunning tonight.”

“I know,” I said, preening.

Vera rolled her eyes but laughed. “Tell Austin we said hi.”

“Also, one more thing,” Nova said before we hung up. She leaned in close to the screen and muttered, “How big are we talking?”

“NOVA!” Parker shouted from the background.

She whipped her head to the side. “I’m just curious. Damn. You know I only want you.”

“Whew,” Vera catcalled. “Parker has turned you into a slut. You would have blushed at the first mention of a penis.”

“My baby girl is growing up,” I said, wiping a fake tear away.

“She doesn’t need to know,” Parker declared.

“Of course not, Rock star,” Nova soothed before turning back to the camera just to mouth how big?

I held my hands apart, studied them, and then moved them even further, mouthing so big.

Both women gave me a thumbs up before ending the call.

Realizing Austin would be there any minute, I ran to the bathroom to apply one more coat of lipstick. I laughed as I fluffed my hair. The girls were right—as they usually were. Maybe I was going over the top with Austin coming over. Maybe I did pick out the crop top that laced over my cleavage because I wanted his eyes to eat me up again.

So what? It wasn’t like it meant I wanted to stay married or anything.

I met the deep brown eyes in the mirror—so familiar, but also so new, alight with an excited glow I hadn’t seen before. I did my best to face life head-on, whether it be easy or hard, but lately, I did exactly as they accused me of—burying my head in the sand. Because the truth was, I knew the outcome of the game Austin and I were playing would be rough. I just didn’t know what the outcome looked like exactly.

What I did know was that I couldn’t be married. I just couldn’t.

I knew I didn’t want to lose Austin as my friend either.

I knew we had to pretend to be married for at least another week.

I knew I wanted to take that week to explore his body like my own personal playground.

I knew I needed to have him inside me again.

I knew I needed to have him own my body with the intensity I’d only ever found with him.

I knew that even thinking about it filled me with an unknown warmth I’d never felt before.

And I also knew that I didn’t want to know what that warmth was.

So, before I found something that I couldn’t turn back from, I blinked, looking away.

Just in time for a knock at the door.

My heart skipped over itself in as much of a rush to get to him as my feet. Taking one last deep breath, I did my best to look aloof and opened the door. “Hey, stranger.”

“Special delivery.”

His jovial greeting faded slowly, his eyes dropping to the strip of cleavage bared by the laces holding the two sides of my shirt together. My nipples pebbled under his gaze, and I bit my lip, trying to hold back the smile, knowing he could see them.

The girls might have been right about a lot, but they weren’t right about me not noticing how Austin looked at me. There was no way in hell I could have missed the physical caress of his eyes on me. It stroked my skin like a match, setting fire wherever it touched.