My jaw drops open. Did she just say. . . ? “Tia, what the hell were you thinking? So now you have to face him? It’s going to be awkward as hell.”
“It won’t be that awkward for me,” she says, sipping her coffee casually. “I’d be more embarrassed if I were him, and had a penis that small.”
I cover my face with my hands. “You didn’t tell him that, did you? Because if you did, you’re probably currently unemployed.”
“No, of course I didn’t. I’m not that mean. I was all . . . ‘Oooh your cock makes my mouth water’ and afterward, I even pretended to be sore.”
Oh my god.
I blink slowly a few times, processing this extreme amount of too much information. “How are we friends?”
Tia laughs, her blue eyes sparkling with humor. “Because of the no-judgment clause in our friendship agreement.”
My lips twitch at that. “You aren’t going to sleep with him again are you? It’s the worst idea you’ve had, and you’ve had many. You’re not supposed to shit where you eat.”
She wrinkles her nose. “Is that a real saying?”
“Yes.”
She sighs, putting down her mug. “I told you, he has the tiniest penis, so no, I won’t be going there again. It looked small in his pants, but I thought that maybe he was a grower, not a shower, you know? But he’s neither.”
I want to laugh at the look on her face. She looks so sad about the whole thing. “It happens. Maybe he’s a really nice guy. Or maybe he’s good with his hands and mouth. You can’t be penis racist. Penis discrimination! It’s a thing.”
She rolls her eyes. “Everyone has things they aren’t willing to compromise on. For some it might be height, or money, or whatever; for me it is penis size. Don’t judge me, Bailey, just accept me as I am. And for the record, he isn’t talented with his hands or mouth either. I usually find men are either good at fucking or with their hands or mouth—either or. But this guy wasn’t good at anything. Such a shame.”
I try to contain my laughter but fail this time. “You’re fucking hilarious. I don’t have a deal-breaker thing, I don’t think.”
“Yes, you do,” she replies drolly. “It’s height. You never go near short guys. That’s your thing.”
“Well, aside from that, I’m not shallow!” I reply a little defensively. Yeah, I wasn’t feeling the short-guy thing. I was about five feet seven inches and I wanted a guy who was at least six foot.
Adam is about six three, my mind reminds me.
Yeah, true. But he’s also an egotistical asshole.
“I bet Adam has a huge cock. Doesn’t he? You can tell me. I won’t announce it on social media like I did with the dentist,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows.
Did I mention his name out loud? I don’t think I did. It must be a coincidence she said his name as I thought it. Only then do I realize what Tia just said.
I gasp. “You didn’t!
She shrugs.
Christ, this woman!
“Does he? Spill!” she almost yells.
I puff out a breath, an image of Adam’s cock filling my mind.
Long, thick.
Fucking perfect.
“Yeah,” I admit sullenly. “It’s the prettiest cock I’ve ever seen in my life.”
The man could be a porn star if he wanted to.
Like Bruce Venture.
Okay, no one’s penis is that nice.
“I knew it!” she says, slamming her palm down on the table. “Maybe I need to get me one of those bikers.”
I’d normally advise against something like that, but Anna and Lana seem happy enough.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” she replies. “What’s up?”
“When Adam took me back to his clubhouse on his motorcycle that night he made a comment about the ‘old Bailey’ and pretty much said I used to be up for anything, which was true. I had a wild streak a mile long and was always up for an adventure. Do you think I’m boring? I know having Cara changed my outlook on the world, but that didn’t mean I had to change who I was, you know?”
Her eyes soften on me. “Bailey, you were a young mother, managing on your own. You had to be responsible. And I don’t think you’re boring at all; you’re a wonderful woman and a great mother. Just because you paused before jumping on the back of a motorcycle with your ex doesn’t make you boring, it makes you smart.”
I nod. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“Mom, I finished reading my book,” Cara says, walking into the kitchen. “There was one word I didn’t know, so Rhett helped me.”
“Good girl. What was the word?” I ask her as she sits down in between me and Tia.
“Enormous,” she says, holding her hands out wide.
Tia and I quickly glance at each other.
And then burst out laughing.
* * *
“Remember the time we rented that hotel room out and you flooded it?” Anna says to me. It was time for our monthly catch-up, and this time we were having dinner at an Italian restaurant after seeing a movie at the cinemas.
“Why do all the stories about me come out?” I grumble, poking my pasta with my fork.
Anna laughs, closing her eyes. “We were drinking gin with orange juice. I remember because we were singing that rap song that goes with it.”
Lana covers her mouth with her hand. “Didn’t she pass out in the shower? Blocking the shower drain?”