One Last Time(20)

“Please tell me you didn’t do anything with him.” She gives me a pointed stare.

I shake my head. “Nothing happened.”

“Not that it would be a bad thing,” Heather clarifies. “Noah is a good guy, and . . . you know how I feel about Scott. Plus, rebound sex is the best sex.”

I groan, taking my coffee back. “Yes, I know how you all feel about my worthless husband.”

I’ve never said anything to my friends, but it was incredibly difficult knowing what they thought of him. They were right about a lot, I can admit that much, but I hated it. Having to bring him places, where he wasn’t truly welcome and hoping they’d be nice, was almost too much at times.

When the people you love hate the person you choose, it’s like being torn in half.

Scott complained about my friends constantly and tried to drive a wedge between us.

Thankfully, he was never able to sever the bond we share.

“You know I would’ve put up with him for the rest of my life if he made you happy, right?” Heather says as she grips my hand.

“I know.”

“There is no man who will ever break us.”

I smile and sigh. “Four chicks?”

“Four chicks who can never pick the dicks,” Heather finishes the joke.

We always joked as kids that no dick would come between the chicks. I’d say the joke held up better than we could’ve ever imagined. Friends for over twenty years who were still as close as we were in high school.

I laugh as an anvil slams against my skull. “I should get home,” I practically cry as I press my temples.

I want to sleep.

And drink ten gallons of water to rid myself of this hangover.

“Are you going to register for the marathon today?”

My head falls to the side and I give her a blank look. “I’m not running a marathon today. I’m not moving from this chair if I can avoid it.”

“Kris, it’s not today,” she complains. “It’s in a few weeks and you promised this would be our thing. That we’d run in Steph’s honor.”

“Can’t our thing be napping?” I think that’s a much better thing to have. “I’m sure Stephanie would’ve supported this.”

In fact, that’s my plan for today since I’m kid-less for the first time.

Heather rolls her eyes. “I promise not to call Nicole if that’ll help persuade you. Lord knows if she hears about you falling in the pool and sleeping on the lawn chair, she’s going to have ammo for a year.”

She wouldn’t dare. “You better not tell her.”

“You better not bail on me.”

I shake my head, regretting it instantly. I need to get out of here before she convinces me to do some other random shit. “You were my favorite. Now, not so much.”

She laughs. “I’ll live with the guilt.”

“I’ll remind you more often.”

“I look forward to it,” Heather replies as I get to my feet.

I toss the damp towel on her as I pass by, and she laughs. “I hate you,” I say with sarcasm.

“I love you, too. Say goodbye to Noah!”

I internally groan as I enter the house. If there’s a God, he’ll let me get out of this house without running into Noah. My feet hit the ice-cold tile floor, and I remember just how unclothed I am. However, I’m not going back out for the damn romper. It’s Florida and bathing suits should be part of the acceptable daily wardrobe.

The coast is clear as I start to move toward the front door. I get to the handle and am about to turn it when my hopes of getting away undetected vanish.

“Running away, are you?” Noah’s raspy voice stops me.

Damn it. I clearly have no luck.

My head thumps against the door, and I close my eyes. “You caught me.”

His low chuckle rumbles through the foyer. “I wanted to make our date.”

Umm. “Date?”

“You owe me,” Noah says as he descends the stairs.

My head drops a little to the left, and my hand finds my hip. “Oh, I owe you now?”

“I did fall head over heels for you . . . into a pool.”

His lips turn into a cocky grin, and I can’t help but laugh. “Yes, you did.”

“I think that at least buys me dinner.” Noah’s shoulders rise and fall, and he is standing so close that I have to tilt my head back.

I study his eyes, the way the shamrock color swirls with a seafoam color in the center. Noah moves a little closer, making me lean back so I’m pressed against the cool wood. I itch to touch him again, to remember the way his skin feels beneath my fingers, but I won’t.

“Well?” he asks, leaning in so there’s almost no space between us.

Dinner with him is a bad idea.

My lips part, and I speak. “You owe me an interview.”

That was not what I was going to say.

“Is that a yes?”

There are two choices. I’m so stupid and know exactly which one I’ll take.

“Fine. Dinner—for work only.” I tack on the last part, hoping to save myself a little dignity.

Noah’s chest touches mine, just a brush of his body against mine, and then he steps back, leaving me freezing. “I’ll see you tonight at eight.”