Page 32 of Iron Heart
I hold it in my hand, staring at the clouded glass. The visual memory of the heat it contained.
Silently, I slip it into my pocket.
* * *
“Girl,I am so ready for this slumber party!” Savannah announces as she troops into the kitchen an hour or so later, a designer tote slung from one shoulder and a bag of groceries in her arms. “I stopped by the grocery store on the way here. I got wine, ice cream, Oreos, popcorn stuff, and Twizzlers!” She plunks the bag down on the counter, inches away from the keys Dante left. “We are set!”
“I hope we don’t have to eat all of it at the same time,” I joke. “My stomach hurts just thinking about it.”
“I hope the fridge is working again,” Savannah frowns, reaching into the bag and pulling out two pints of Ben and Jerry’s. “Otherwise we’ll have to eat this as an appetizer.”
I go to the refrigerator and open it. “Ta-da!” I sing, pointing as the light goes on. “We’re in business.”
“Sweet! Here,” she says, handing over the ice cream. She digs in the bag again and pulls out two bottles of wine — one white, one red. “Which one should I open?”
“If the white one’s chilled, let’s go with that.” I take a deep breath and exhale, feeling all the nerves and flutteriness of my earlier encounter with Dante start to melt away. Maybe I need this girls’ night more than I thought. “But just half a glass,” I add — a concession to my heart, as always.
Three hours later, we’re sprawled out on the couch in the dim light of the TV as the final credits roll on a cheesy rom com we’ve both seen half a dozen times. A half-empty box of cold pizza is sitting in front of us on the coffee table, as is a barely-touched bowl of popcorn and a plate with crumbs on it that used to be Oreos.
“God,” I groan. “There’s no way I can fit in any ice cream. I don’t just have a food baby, I have food quintuplets.”
“More wine?” Savannah grins, getting up.
“Did you not hear me?” I retort. “Do youwantme to throw up?”
“Not while I’m here,” she teases. “You might expect me to clean it up.”
Savannah comes back a minute later with her wine glass refreshed. “I don’t know where you put all that,” I mutter, staring at her washboard-flat stomach. “I swear, you eat more than a linebacker.”
“Family metabolism,” she shrugs, her dark corkscrew curls bobbing. “Let’s just hope it doesn’t ever slow down. I don’t know how I’d ever manage trying to eat like a bird. Especially around Jeremy.” Savannah chuckles. “Do you know, they say that couples gain weight once they move in together or get married? Both the guy and the girl, but especially women. I guess they eat more because they unconsciously start matching the portion sizes of their partner.”
“Well, no worries there,” I smirk. “You already eat more than Jeremy does.”
She grins again. “True.”
“So, how are things with the two of you?”
“Oh, good. Jeremy’s gone at that realtor conference thing, like I said.” She rolls her eyes. “He keeps texting me about all the hookups that are going on.”
“Seriously? Like, people who are married and stuff?” I ask, feeling like a ninny.
“Yep. I guess realtor conventions are just giant slut-fests.”
“Do you ever worry about Jeremy doing anything like that?” I ask, even though I basically already know the answer. Jeremy and Savannah are so committed and solid, it’s almost impossible to imagine them apart. And Jeremy adores Savannah.
“Psh. Can you imagine?” she scoffs, waving her hand. “No, girl. He knows I would kill him. Twice.” She stifles a yawn. “So, what about you? Any news on the romance front? Any dates or anything?”
Now it’s my turn to scoff. “Please. You know me.”
“Not even the hint of a hookup? Girl, you seriously need some action. You’re in your prime. You’re gonna be as dry as the Sahara down there if you’re not careful.”
“There’s no one I’m interested in,” I say, as Dante’s face appears in my mind.
“You’re just not looking hard enough. Come on,” she urges. “Maybe someone you work with? A couple of those guys are pretty cute.”
“Frank’s not my type,” I deadpan.
“Okay, one, gross.” Savannah holds up a red-tipped finger. “And two, you know that’s not what I meant. Your camera guy is dateable. And that guy Ryan? Total snack.”