Teardrop Shot(83)

I amended, “Sorry, but no. I was recently fired from two jobs, and I’m a mess right now, but despite all of that, Reese still invited me out here.”

“Are you a mode—”

I almost snorted again.

She amended this time. “You don’t have the height for that.” Suspicion still hung heavy. “One last question and I’ll ease up.”

“Okay?”

“Will you let me go through your purse?”

A purse. Ooooooh fuck.

I paled. “I knew I forgot something.”

“What?”

But it was no problem. I had transferred all my stuff to my carry-on. A purse wasn’t needed. Relief weakened my knees after a small heart attack.

“I would, if I’d remembered it. I took everything out and put it in my carry-on for easier access. I hate carrying two bags, so I was going to stuff my purse in my carry-on too. But it’s at my apartment right now.”

Her eyebrows went up into her forehead. “You don’t have a purse?”

“No.”

“And you only brought a carry-on with you?”

A slow nod from me.

She relaxed suddenly, her arms falling to her sides and her shoulders rolling backward. “Girl, you could’ve said that and saved us a whole lot of time.”

“Why?”

“Because no chick who only brings a carry-on to see fucking Reese Forster is out to use him. No high-maintenance chick would forget a purse.” She flicked her hair over her shoulder, pivoting and going into the kitchen. She reached for a bottle of tequila and poured two shots for us. “Here.” She pushed one to me. “We could’ve been drinking this whole time.”

I migrated to the counter. “I don’t want to argue with your theory, but I don’t quite get it either.” I picked up the shot and held it. “But here’s to an interrogation-free game? I’m hoping.”

She grinned, the first time her ice fa?ade had cracked. She toasted me with her shot, before tossing it back. “Damn. I need one more.”

“Are you driving to the game?”

“Let’s do an Uber. The guys will drive us home later.”

She flashed me a grin, and my heart stopped. It took her from terrifying to stunning. She was a short little minx, sassy scary, though.

“And you can’t really blame me. I’ve been with Juan for four years. Reese is like family. He’s a godparent to our son.”

“You have a son with Juan?”

She nodded, smiling in pride. “And two little girls too.”

This was so not the world I came from.

She must’ve sensed my thoughts, because she held up that finger again. “And don’t be calling me Juan’s baby-momma, because it’s not like that.”

I frowned.

“You’re from the Midwest?”

Wary now. “Yeah?”

“You conservative and shit?”

“Huh?”

“You know. Looking down on me because Juan and I are shacked up, three kids together, and no ring?” She had lowered her head, giving me a side-eye I knew I’d never be able to mimic.

I was about to break one of my rules. “I lived with a guy for seven years. No kids, but no ring either.” And even though she hadn’t asked, I added, “And yes, my dad disapproved, but I didn’t care. And by the way, I’ve never used the term baby-momma in my life. I’ve only heard it on movies and television.”

“You serious?”

“Yeah. You gonna look down on me now?”

We took a moment, eyeing each other. Her side-eye was still perfection, but I was trying. I felt like a bobbing ostrich, though.

Then she sighed, every inch of her loosening up. “Okay. I got you. I think.” She paused a second. “You must have baggage?”

My lips were sealed.

She grunted, nodding to herself. “Yeah.” She threw back the second shot and grabbed two beers after that. “Definite baggage.”

She slid one of the beers to me, and I took it. I was so far out of my depth, I was just going to go with it. She said drink the beer, I’d double-fist it.

Later, after we’d both settled down and called a truce, she grinned at me from the back of our Uber.

“I should probably tell you right now that I’m into girls too, and damn—Reese has good taste.”

Awwww…

A whole chunk of thawing ice fell off my chest. “If you hadn’t won me over with the shot glasses that look like tampons, that would’ve done it.” I patted the tampon in my pocket.

At least for the time being, I had a feeling Reese was right. Marie and I were going to get along just fine.





“That’s Shelly. She’s Crusky’s current girlfriend, but don’t make eye contact for too long or she’ll start thinking we’re talking about his wife.”

“Huh?”

We were three beers in, and four shots. We’d also eaten a slice of pizza, so I was pretty sure that absorbed one of the beers. Saying I was more than tipsy would’ve been… What was I saying again?

I burped. “Crusky has a wife and a girlfriend?”

He was no longer the Cruskinator to my inner fangirl, but Crusky. I was talking like I knew him, which I didn’t, not really. He teased me once, though.