"A date?" she repeats and then steps closer to me when someone bumps into her. My hand goes around her waist to protect her. "I thought we had this conversation the other night. I’ve decided I’m going to be single my whole life and end up living in a house with cats." She laughs, and the bartender comes over and hands me a water.
"What can I get you?" he asks her, and she smiles at him.
"I’m good, thank you," she says to him and then turns back to me. "What are you doing here?" she asks, and I shrug.
"The girls are with Julianne, so I thought why not." Smiling at her, leaning in to whisper in her ear, "I almost didn’t come in when I heard the music blaring."
She throws her head back and laughs. "Of course you did."
"It was so loud," I say and look around. "And I can still hear it but less."
"Because it’s the outside area," she says. "I was just out there with Becca. Which is why I’m here. We had a business meeting, and then she dragged me here."
"Well, then it’s my lucky night," I say, and she smiles up at me.
"If you play your cards right, it might get luckier," she teases, and I just shake my head.
"And why is that?" I ask.
"I won’t steal any of your food since I’m full," she says, and I laugh. She grabs my hand. "Come on, let's get some food in you."
We walk over to the table where everyone is sitting. Candace gets up and comes over to me, kissing my cheeks and giving me a hug. "I’m so happy you are here."
"Thanks," I say to her, my eyes looking for Erika as she sits in one of the empty seats. "It’s good to be out."
I walk to the empty chair beside Erika, and the waitress comes over and takes my order. I put my hand around her chair and lean back, taking in the conversations going on. She leans over. "Why are you so quiet?"
"I’m just …" I start to say as the waitress sets my plate in front of me. "I’m good."
I sit up and look around the table seeing everyone with their plates in front of them, except Becca, who smiles at Nico. "That looks good," Erika says, and I laugh.
"I thought you were full," I remind her, cutting a piece of the steak and holding it out for her.
"Are you giving me your meat?" she jokes with me, and I can’t help but laugh at her stupid joke.
She leans in and takes the little piece. "No more," she says, chewing and then orders a glass of sparkling water.
"How are you getting home?" I ask when we walk out of the restaurant an hour later.
"I have this thing called a car." She laughs, pushing me. "It comes with four wheels and everything."
"Suddenly, she’s a comedian.” I roll my eyes, when I spot her SUV. "You want to stay at the condo?"
"Nope," she says, coming to me and kissing my cheek. "I’m going to go home and sleep in my king-size bed." She turns and walks away from me.
"Will you text me when you get home?" I ask as she unlocks her SUV.
"Nope," she says, laughing as she gets in the SUV. I wait for her to drive toward me, and she stops the SUV and rolls her window down. "It’s going to be fine. It’s forty minutes.”
"Fine, I’ll call you in an hour and a half and wake you up," I threaten and glare. "Talk to you soon." I turn, walking over to my SUV.
"You’re a pain in my ass," she says. She picks up her phone and presses something, and my phone pings. "There, I shared my location with you. You can follow me like you do your Uber orders." She rolls her window back up, leaving me laughing by myself, and I do exactly that. When I see she parked her car, I text her.
Me: Good Night
Erika: Fuck Off
Chapter 10
Erika
The sound of the front door lock makes me open my eyes, and I wonder if I heard properly or if it was in my dream. I lean up on my elbow to see if I heard right, and then I hear the front door open and close. "Oh my god," I say, throwing the covers off me and looking down at my shorts and tank top. I glance around quickly to see if maybe there is a robe to cover myself, but I don’t see anything, and I also don’t wait. I rush to the door when I hear footsteps, and I almost turn and run back to get my phone when I see him walking into the house. He’s wearing track pants and a Dallas shirt, his arms looking unusually huge. His Dallas baseball hat is on his head.
I stand at the top of the staircase, putting my hands on the railing. "What the fuck?" I say, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. "You are so lucky I don’t have a gun," I threaten, turning and walking back to my room. I look over at the clock and see that it’s just before 10 a.m. Usually, during the week, I’m up at six and on the treadmill for an hour, and then I do the bike. But on Sunday, I rest. It is a holy day, after all. When I bought this house, I wanted two things. One, a pool and grass and two, a big master bedroom. Well, the master bedroom was okay in size, but I knocked down the wall with the spare bedroom, giving me a giant master bedroom and seating area. I get back into my king-size bed, going in the middle where I sleep.
I hear him laugh as he yells, "Does that mean you’re coming down, or do I come up?"
"That means go away!" I shout back and bring the covers up to my chin, and I hear the squeak of his shoes on the stairs.
"I brought coffee,” he says, and I sink deeper into the bed. It took me over four months to find the perfect blankets for my bed. I wanted to feel like I was sleeping in a cloud. That is how I described it to every person who sold linen. It took lots of test drives before I got my exact bedding. That and the eight pillows I sleep with surrounding me.
"What kind of coffee?" I mumble, opening one eye to see him walk in. I notice him look over at the new couch set I just got for my room. Two massive captain chairs with fluffy cushions face the bed. One of them has the clothes I was wearing last night on it.
"Do you even use these chairs?" he asks, and I stare at them.
"No," I say. "But look how pretty they are. They make the room look so cozy."
He comes over and sits on the bed. "Good morning." He holds up the white cup of coffee with the green logo on it.
"It’s ten o’clock on a Sunday," I say. "Why are you even here?"
"I got you breakfast, too." He holds up the white bag, and I know something is up.
"What do you want?" I ask, and he laughs.
"Why do you think I want something?" he says innocently, and I get up to grab the cup of coffee.
"Are you going to deny you want something?" I ask, sitting up in the bed, bringing the coffee to my mouth. The vanilla hits my tongue right away.
"I brought you croissants," he bribes, and I glare at him.
"You definitely want something," I accuse him. "If you have cake in the other one, I’m going to think you want my kidney or something."
He laughs, taking the hat off his head and tossing it as he scratches his head. His hair is longer than what I’m used to seeing him with, but I think that’s because Julianne hated his hair long. I, on the other hand, love it longer. He even has scruff on his cheeks. "I have lemon cake."