“Oh my God.” Mia set her water glass down on the table with a thump, jolting me from my Dream Wedding to Not-Charlie. “I just realized, I might be pregnant at your wedding. I won’t be able to drink. And what if I’m fat? I already ordered my dress!”
“Mia.” Coco gave her a look. “Give me a break. My wedding’s in three weeks. You’ll only be like ten minutes pregnant, you won’t be showing yet. You probably won’t show for another six months. And who cares about drinking? You’re having a baby.” She reached over, grabbed Mia’s neck, and shook her back and forth.
“OK, OK.” Mia laughed. “And don’t worry, we can deck your house out in all kinds of winter flowers, candles, greenery, and white lights for the reception. I have a vision.”
“I know you do. And I’m counting on it because I can’t be objective here, and I need you. RSVP’s are piling up, and of course, everyone can come. I think we’re going to end up with about eighty people.”
“That’s a nice number,” I said. “Not tiny, but not unmanageable.”
Coco looked smug. “I agree. I got my way with the guest list—no five hundred Italian cousins with all their screaming children.”
“Good. Now you.” Mia nodded in my direction. “Do you feel better now that your new floor is in at the studio?”
“Definitely.” But what really felt good was being pounded in the studio before the floor went in. Should I tell them? What would they say? Part of me wanted to put it out there for a fun discussion, but I didn’t want them to think I had a thing for him. Because I so didn’t have a thing.
I set my glass down and bit my lip. “Actually, I have something to tell you guys.”
“You slept with that cop.”
I stared at Coco. “How did you know?”
She clapped her hands and Mia stared at me openmouthed. “Because you’ve got that freshly-fucked glow.”
“Do I?” I put a hand to my cheek.
“Wait, it’s true?” Mia leaned over Coco toward me. “You slept with Charlie Dwyer?”
“Yes.” I waited a beat. “Twice.”
Coco squealed and I could have shoved a grapefruit into Mia’s mouth, it was so wide.
“But it’s not like we’re dating or anything.” I picked up my wine again, but didn’t miss the look they exchanged.
“Why not?” Mia said.
“Because it’s not like that. I’m too busy for a boyfriend and he’s not interested in a relationship. We’re not really compatible anyway.” I hid my face in my big wine glass. Both of them stared at me in confusion.
“Erin, this is very unlike you,” Mia said. “And while I’m totally fine with just enjoying a fun sexual relationship for the hell of it as long as both parties are on the same page, this just…” She looked to Coco for help.
“Just doesn’t seem like a page in your kind of book,” Coco finished.
“Well, it is.” I jutted my chin. “I don’t have to be in love with someone to have sex with him. I’ve slept with guys who weren’t my boyfriend.”
My friends looked at each other and then back at me. “When have you ever slept with someone who wasn’t your boyfriend?” Mia asked.
Confession: I have never slept with anyone I wasn’t in love with already or didn’t fall in love with eventually. But people could change, right?
“My past isn’t the point, OK? And anyway, Charlie and I agreed we’re not going to have sex anymore. Although, we said that after the first time, and he still showed up at my house last night with tented pants.” I laughed, but they were bug-eye serious.
“Last night?” Mia blinked. “When was the first time?”
“The night before,” I said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Wednesday night.”
“You’ve done it two nights in a row?” Coco grinned. “So what time do you think he’ll be over tonight?”
“Coco! He’s not coming tonight. I told you, we agreed not to have sex anymore.”
“And why’s that, exactly? Wasn’t it good? It must have been, if he came back around sniffing for more so soon.”
I exhaled, feeling a shiver move down my spine and settle with a tickle between my legs. “It was good. It was insanely good. Sexually, we are very compatible. But that’s it.”
“How do you know?” Mia asked.
“Because I can barely stand him the rest of the time.” I grimaced, tilting my head side to side. “I guess I shouldn’t say that. He helped me out with the floor Wednesday night, and he can be funny and charming and sweet. But then he’ll say something insulting or cocky, and I realize I can’t take his bloated ego for another minute. I want to punch him.”
“Sometimes I want to punch Nick,” Coco offered, “if that makes you feel better.”
“Thanks, but Nick would never have said he shouldn’t sleep with you anymore because he’s worried you’ll fall in love with him.”
“Charlie said that?”
I shrugged. “Pretty much.”
“God. What an asshole. He doesn’t deserve to have sex with you, then.” Coco nodded with finality, then spoke out of the side of her mouth. “But I still think he’s going to show up tonight.”
“No, he’s not,” I insisted. “He wants to be friends. He’s insisting on taking me ice skating.”