Page 63 of Forever Only Once

Me: I’m working here, ladies. Isn’t this a nighttime conversation?

Paris: Aha. You’re saying you only do it in at night?

I put my hand over my mouth, holding back a laugh.

Myra: You know, maybe Cross only likes it with the lights off.

Dakota: And, gasp, missionary.

I closed my eyes, trying not to laugh, but I knew it was a lost cause.

I snorted, grateful that no one was paying attention to me because they all had their eyes on their own phones, and went back to typing.

Me: You all are horrible.

Paris:But not as horrible as Cross. I mean, if it’s awful, you need to tell us.

Me: How exactly is that any of your business?

Paris: It’s our business because we love you. And we’re all bereft. Tell us.

Myra:Please? Please? Please?

Dakota: Everyone else is begging, so I’m just going to order it. Tell us. We want to know all the details. And since we can’t see you, we can’t actually ask you to show us the distance between your palms to talk about specific attributes.

Paris:Just tell us in terms of eggplant emojis.

This time, I full out laughed, and a few people looked at me. I just waved and pointed at my phone, rolling my eyes.

“YouTube video, have it on mute. But still funny,” I said, and they seemed to believe me.

I didn’t believe myself.

Me:Please, stop. I’ll give you details in person. I’m not writing it down.

Paris: Do we need to bring the good wine? You know, so you feel better? Or do we need to bring shots so we feel better about our lack of love life?

I smiled, looked down at the phone, and typed again.

Me:I’d bring the shots, ladies.

Paris:Bazinga!

Myra: Well then, I guess we’re going to have to bring the extra shots. I’ll bring the liquor, ladies.

Dakota:And I’ll bring the baked goods because I think I’m going to have to either soak up that liquor or bury myself in carbs. I could do both.

I laughed again and then set up a time for us to meet.

I loved my girls and the fact that I could feel this giddy about a guy again. I had no idea what exactly to feel about that, though.

Because everything felt so new and hot and needy.

I still didn’t know exactly what I was doing, but I was enjoying myself. And that had to count for something. Didn’t it?

I quickly ate my lunch and then went back to work, doing my best to focus on what was in front of me rather than let worry slide through my system.

Because I had been on this path before, hadn’t I? I had felt this happiness before, or at least a version of it.