My Favorite Half-Night Stand(49)

Although the inside looks warm and inviting, with pin-tucked leather stools and a wide-open bar, it’s quieter on the patio. Plus, he’s not wrong about the ventilation. I’m still not sure what to name this feeling in my belly.

“Three for outside,” Ed tells the hostess. It takes my brain a moment to catch what he’s said.

“Wait. Three?”

Like a hot Latin Dementor, Alex materializes at his side.

I turn on Ed. “You brought Alex? I told you I needed to talk.”

Alex snags a chip off the tray of a passing waiter and pops it into his mouth, talking around it. “Why would you need to talk to Ed?”

I frown at Ed. “Never mind. It’s nothing.”

Ed gives him a conspiratorial tap on the arm to get his attention. “Because she’s Catherine,” he whispers, and then leans in, adding, “Oh, and she and Reid are sleeping together.”

Thunder booms inside my skull. “Oh my God! Ed!”

“What? You said I couldn’t tell Reid,” he says. “You can’t expect me to keep something like that to myself. It’s bad for my skin.”

Alex’s eyes go wide. “I’m sorry, what the fuck did you just say?”

I’m saved from having to respond when a pretty waitress appears to lead us to the patio. Because both Alex and I are locked in place, Ed gives us each a shove and we reluctantly follow.

She takes us to a round table with a low, flickering fire in the center, and hands us our menus before leaving. An awkward silence settles between us as Alex is probably attempting to wrap his head around what he’s just heard, and I file through my vast bank of knowledge to narrow down how to most efficiently murder Ed. Arsenic seems like a good choice.

“So . . .” Ed says, casually perusing his menu. “How is everyone?”

Alex stares blankly at the paper in his hand. “I don’t even know where to start.”

I couldn’t agree more. “That makes two of us.”

“I heard the entire thing through a paper-thin wall, so if you’d like I can start there,” Ed tells him. “Perhaps a dramatic reenactment?”

I wouldn’t have thought it was possible, but Alex’s eyes widen further, and I see the moment he puts two and two together. “At his parents’ house?”

I sink into my chair.

Across from me, Alex calls back the waitress and gestures to the rest of us at the table. “Yeah, we’re gonna need some drinks.”



If you want to get as drunk as possible for around twenty dollars, a Blackout Beach is a pretty fancy way to do it.

After loosely explaining the situation to Alex, I look at him over the top of my giant drink—a potent concoction of vodka, rum, blue cura?ao, peach schnapps, and a shot of 151, served in what can only be described as a fishbowl. I’d bet money no good decision was ever made while holding a drink this size.

“So you’re the ugly girl,” Alex says, and I debate whether I would feel better drinking the final third of my Blackout Beach or throwing it in his lap.

“It is not an ugly photo,” I say, and settle on throwing a tortilla chip at him instead. “What was I supposed to do? I can’t actually show my face.”

Alex vaguely motions to the general vicinity of my boobs. “You could show your—”

Ed cuts him off, reaching to cover Alex’s mouth. “Even I know you should stop talking.”

Alex pushes him away. “Let me get this straight. You’re writing to him as Catherine, but having sex with him as Millie?”

“Yes. But we’re not having sex,” I say. “We just had sex.”

“Okay, so just the once, then,” he clarifies. “I mean, that’s different.”

“Well . . .” I say, taking a long pull on my straw while I pretend to think. It tastes like candy gasoline. “Maybe twice.”

Alex leans back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. “Maybe?”

I sigh. “Fine. Twice.”

“So far,” Alex suggests, and Ed takes a break from shoveling in chips and salsa by the handful to bark out a laugh.

I glare at them both. “There’s no so far about it. It was a weird little accident. It won’t happen again.”

Alex laughs now and his eyes are devilishly bright in the light from the fire. “Do you know what an accident is, Mills? Spilling a glass of water is an accident. Cutting someone off in traffic—that can be an accident. As much as I would personally enjoy using it as an excuse, I don’t know how person one would accidentally put their penis into person two.”

“Well, theoretically, depending on the circumstances, the angle of your fall, and the velocity—” Ed stops and looks around the table. “Carry on.”

Alex clears his throat before turning his attention back to me. “Not even getting into the fact that you confided in Ed about this and not me. Does Chris know?”

“Hell no, Chris doesn’t. And I didn’t confide in anyone.” I poke at my drink with the straw, glaring at Ed. “I only admitted it to him because he basically caught me.”

“And let me tell you,” Ed says, straightening, “I don’t think the amount of insulation they have in those walls is up to code. I might as well have been in the same room for the things I heard. I almost took a shower myself.”