Ridge: Are we doing lunch on the way or should we eat before?
Maggie: Let’s eat on the way. I’ll feel bad if he gets here and hasn’t eaten.
Warren: Okay. Lunch. Be hungry. Got it. Ridge, you and Syd meeting us here or do we need to pick you up?
Ridge: We can meet you guys there.
Maggie: Can I ask a favor? And this is mostly of Warren.
Warren: I’M GOING TO BE NICE TO HIM! STOP WORRYING, MAGGIE!
Maggie: I know you’ll be nice. I don’t worry about that. I worry about you being completely inappropriate.
Warren: Oh. Well, yeah. You should definitely worry about that.
I laugh and set my phone down because Sydney is walking back to the couch with a spoonful of ice cream in her mouth, and I don’t want to think about anything else right now. As if she can see my thoughts, she grins a little, pulling the spoon out of her mouth.
“You want a bite?”
I nod.
She doesn’t sit next to me on the couch to share it with me. She straddles me, holding the bowl of ice cream between us as she adjusts her legs on either side of me. She scoops a small spoon of the ice cream and gives me a bite. I swallow it, and then she dips her head and kisses me. Her mouth tastes like vanilla. Her tongue is cold as it slides against mine.
I pull her closer, but the bowl of ice cream between us is hindering me. I grab the bowl and set it aside on the table next to her and then pull her to me. I kiss her as I slowly lower her to the couch.
She’s about to melt, just like her bowl of ice cream.
Last night I dreamt Jake showed up with a date. A tall redhead with a French accent and black Louboutin heels.
Who goes to explore caves in high heels?
Or…better yet…who shows up for a date with a date?
I was covered in sweat when I woke up, but I’m not sure if it was because Jake showed up in my dream with a date or because Warren and Bridgette shared one body with two heads. Both aspects of my dream were equally disturbing.
I don’t know if it’s my dream that has me so shaken, or if it’s the fact that I’ve yet to have a conversation with Jake about the dynamics of our group, but I’m standing at the bathroom sink trying to brush my teeth, and my hand is visibly shaking.
I want to be able to talk to Jake before he meets everyone, but he’ll be here in half an hour, and I can’t very well call him minutes before he arrives and say, “Oh, by the way, you’re about to hang out with my ex-boyfriend today. Both my ex-boyfriends, actually. It’ll be fun!”
I should have cancelled.
I almost did when I woke up after the nightmare I had last night. I had an excuse all typed out in a text to him about why I needed to cancel, but I was too scared to send it. He’d see right through it. I’ve been unreliable one too many times with him, and pushing him away again would probably be the last contact he’d have with me. Besides, in our conversation last night, he said he wants consistency. I don’t want our consistency to be me pushing him away. I want it to be me following through with him. I just have to get him alone somehow before he meets Warren or Ridge. He deserves to know what he’s getting into before he walks into this apartment.
If I could get him from the front door to my bedroom without him meeting anyone, it would give us a few minutes alone to reacquaint ourselves without standing in the danger zone that is the communal living room of this apartment.
That’s what I’ll do. I’ll somehow drag him to my room before introductions.
As soon as I finish brushing my teeth, I dry my mouth with a hand towel and stare at my reflection. Other than the absolute fear in my eyes, I look like I usually do. I return my toothbrush to my toiletry bag, just as Bridgette swings open the bathroom door that leads to their room. She pauses when she sees me. I pause when I see her.
It’s always been awkward between us, but we’ve never had to share a bathroom before, so the fact that she’s in her barely there underwear takes awkward to a whole new level. For me, anyway. She doesn’t seem bothered that I’m seeing her nearly nude, because she walks straight to the toilet and pulls down her panties to pee.
She’s just as uninhibited as Warren.
“So,” Bridgette says, unrolling toilet paper into her hand. “Does this guy realize what he’s getting into?”
“What do you mean?”
She waves a hand in a circle. “You know. This whole group he’s about to spend the day with. Does he know the history?”
I close my eyes for a second, breathing in steadily. “Not yet,” I say, exhaling.