Faking Ms. Right (Dirty Martini Running Club, #1)(5)

Hazel pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sleeping with Corban Nash.”

“I actually agree with Hazel,” I said. “That’s a terrible idea.”

“I never said anything about sleeping,” Nora said. “I was thinking more along the lines of blowing his mind by fucking him senseless a few times.”

My cheeks flushed hot and I glanced away, clearing my throat.

Nora laughed, a light tinkling sound. “Everly, you’re the cutest. I love making you blush. It’s so easy.”

“No, it’s not,” I said. But she was completely right. It was very easy to make me blush.

“Come on, Hazel,” Nora said. “You have too much repressed sexual energy. All that beautiful womanhood needs an outlet.”

“I disagree,” Hazel said. “I’ve decided I’m no longer dating. Or having sex. Or engaging in any sort of relational exchanges with men.”

“Why would you do a silly thing like that?” Nora asked.

Hazel pushed her glasses up her nose. “To use a common colloquialism, I’ve been there, done that. I’ve dated casually. I’ve been in a long-term relationship. Neither worked well for me, and I have other things in my life that are taking my focus right now.”

“If that’s what you think is best,” I said.

Nora scrunched her nose. “No men? At all?”

“I don’t need a man to be satisfied with my life,” Hazel said.

“Of course you don’t need men,” Nora said. “But they’re very nice to have around. They can fix things, and lift things that are heavy. And when it comes to sex, I will admit there are a multitude of ways to keep yourself satisfied—but let’s be honest, nothing beats the almighty cock.”

I put a finger to my lips. “Nora, not so loud.”

“Speaking of,” Nora said, turning to me. “What am I thinking? You had your date with Gunnar on Saturday. How was it?”

I sighed. “It wasn’t good.”

“Oh no. Do you want to tell us about it?” Nora asked. “I mean, obviously you have to; I’m just trying to be nice.”

After a string of bad first dates, I’d been ready to side with Hazel and give up on dating. Or at least take a good, long break. But Nora had offered to pick my next date. Her theory was that we could outsmart my bad dating luck by having someone else choose who I went out with.

She’d found Gunnar, a guy she deemed Everly-date-worthy, on a dating app. I’d messaged him, hoping her theory was right.

Her theory had been wrong. Very, very wrong.

“First of all, I thought we were going to lunch, but he took me to a wedding.”

“On your first date?” Hazel asked.

“Yes, and he was a groomsman,” I said. “He didn’t tell me until we were in the car, already on the way. He had some excuse about thinking the wedding was next weekend and he didn’t want to break our date. I should have gone home right then. But I thought maybe an unconventional first date was a good sign.”

“That’s fair logic,” Hazel said.

“You’d think. It was two hours away, at a winery in the mountains. The wedding itself wasn’t terrible, but as soon as we got to the reception, everyone started guzzling tequila like they were at a club in Mexico over spring break. I wound up on the dance floor among a bunch of drunk people twerking. A bridesmaid rubbed her boobs all over me like a stripper giving a standing lap dance, and then a cake fight broke out. I barely made it out of there alive. And that’s still not the worst part.”

“What could be worse than all that?” Hazel asked.

I shuddered, the memory of my awful Saturday burned into my brain. “Oh my god, I don’t know if I want to tell you.”

“Come on, sweetie,” Nora said. “Circle of trust.”

Nora clasped hands with Hazel on one side, then offered me her other hand while Hazel did the same.

I took both their hands, forming our sacred circle of trust. “Okay. I went outside to figure out what to do, and Gunnar came out with one of the drunk bridesmaids. She was hanging all over him, basically humping his leg.”

“Oh god,” Nora said.

“So then he invited me to come with them to the hotel next door for a threesome. He said he had enough for both of us, and then she made some very graphic comments about what she’d do to me, if I was willing to do the same to her.”

“She said she’d eat you out if you ate her out, didn’t she?” Nora asked, completely nonchalant.

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, but did you need to say it out loud?”

“I was just clarifying.”

“Obviously I said no. I took a picture of him with the drunk bridesmaid and texted it to him so he’d see it when he sobered up, and told him it was why I was blocking his number.”

“Good,” Hazel said.

Nora let go of my hand and held hers out. “I need to see this.”

I got out my phone and showed her the photo. The lighting wasn’t great, but it showed a disheveled, cake-smeared Gunnar, with a woman in an ugly peach bridesmaid dress groping him on the front porch of the winery.

“Wow,” Nora said, holding the phone by her fingertips, as if the photo itself would soil her. “That’s horrible.”