Page 52 of Badd Love
"Babe, stop. You're gonna dislocate your shoulder. Trust me when I say that shitreallyhurts."
I shuffled to the door, undid all three locks, opened the door a crack, and shuffled back to my couch, where I plopped back down, tossed my blanket back over my bare legs, and resumed eating Boom Chicka Pop chocolate sea salt drizzle popcorn and watching aTeen Momreplay marathon.
Duncan took one step inside, looked around, looked at me, and turned right back around. "I'm gonna…ummm….go do…things. Elsewhere."
"Good plan," I mumbled, mouth full of popcorn, which I washed down with a swig of…you guessed it, box wine.
Once Duncan had shut my door, Rune re-enacted Dunc's survey of my place: it was a pigsty. Not just for me, for anyone. Dishes were piled up in the sink, there was a carryout container that probably contained a lifeform NASA would be fascinated to study, and we're not going to talk about the pile of empty wine boxes by the garbage can.
Or the sex toys on the coffee table.
Or the fact that I was still in Dane's T-shirt, and hadn't showered since he left…. *mumbles inaudibly under her breath* days ago.
With a heavy, long-suffering sigh, Rune tossed her purse on the table by the door, kicked off her shoes and socks, took off her bra from beneath her T-shirt, shucked her yoga pants, and climbed pantsless under the blanket with me.
She ate my popcorn and watched a good fifteen minutes of the show with me without saying a damn word.
That, my peeps, is the definition of a bestie. She's the girl who yeets her bra and takes off her pants, no questions asked.
Finally, I poured myself more wine and muted the TV, which was a shame because Amber and Gary were about to really get into it.
"How was your honeymoon?" I asked.
She spied a six-pack of mini Diet Cokes on the floor under the coffee table—don't ask—and snagged one. "Fantastic. We swam in the ocean, had romantic candlelight dinners on the beach, and had fabulous sex in just about every pregnancy-possible position you can think of on just about every horizontal and vertical surface in the room, including the balcony."
"Oooh, hotel balcony sex is fun."
"Not when you're our upstairs neighbor. They shouted at us to please stop strangling the cat."
I spluttered a laugh. "Youdosound like a cat when you’re coming, a little."
"You don't know that."
I swigged wine, which loosened my tongue—not that it needs loosening, the flappy bitch. "Um, hello? Was I or was I not in the next room when Hayes drilled you into kingdom come on that trip to Myrtle Beach, our sophomore year?"
Rune grimaced. "Oh. Right. Forgot about that."
"The boy was a class-A loser and ding-dong fucknut for the ages, but he sure could use that dick."
Rune sighed. "You're not wrong."
"Can I ask you something I've been wondering for a long time?"
"Obviously."
"You always told me that Hayes was the best sex you ever had. Is that still true, or…?"
She crammed popcorn into her mouth like it was going to run away and join a convent. "No. Not even close. Hayes wasn't thebestsex I ever had; he was the mostconsistentlygoodsex I ever had. Until Dunc, thebesteverwas Brutus."
I cackled, spluttering wine through my fingers. "Fuck me!” I coughed, gagged, and leaned forward, as I'd rather drip wine on my floor than my/Dane’s T-shirt. Fortunately, I had a stack of brown paper carryout napkins handy. Once I'd cleaned myself off, I turned on Rune. "Brutus? That giant beefcake you hooked up with before Hayes?"
"Yup."
"I remember you saying it was good, but better than Hayes?"
"Well, that's my point. Brutus was hit or miss. It was either pathetic and awful, or goddamned spectacular.”
I arched an eyebrow at her. "Rune, he was bipolar."
