Page 122 of Just One More Thing

I look up and they’re all staring at me. “What?” I ask defensively.

“You’re gone,” Lainey says. “HEA activated. No epilogue required.”

I groan and hide my face behind my wine glass. “I’m aware of the situation.”

Lainey presses both hands dramatically to her chest. “I need tropes. Are we talking slow burn? Intense pining? He falls first? Fated soulmates?”

Ainsley raises her glass. “I once dated a pilot who said we were taking it slow. He moved into my apartment two weeks later with a guinea pig and a blender.”

“Please direct me to the point of that story,” Bethany says.

“The point is men ejaculate unpredictably.”

“Not wrong,” Bethany says. “But how is that relevant?”

“How is what relevant?” Ainsley asks.

“The ejaculation of your pilot and his emotional support guinea pig.”

“Oh God,” Lainey says, sticking her fingers into her ears. “If this story involves the guinea pig, I cannot handle it.”

“It does not!”

“Lalalalala,” Lainey chants anyway.

“I’m talking about emotional escalation, not ejaculation. Damn, Bethany. You need to get laid.”

“You said—forget it,” Bethany mutters.

I lean over and tap Lainey’s knee. “You can un-lala yourself now.”

She lowers her hands cautiously. “Is it safe?”

“Probably.”

“I don’t even remember what we were talking about.”

“Which base Emory has reached,” Ainsley says helpfully.

“We haven’t…” I exaggerate the movement of my wine glass forward and back. “You know.”

Bethany shifts and pulls her shorts from a wedgie. “I’m sorry. You haven’t what?”

“You know what.”

The three of them just stare at me. “We haven’t slept together,” I blurt at a volume the neighbors probably heard.

Lainey gasps, genuinely stunned. “With Jake Wheeler?”

“Yes, Lainey. With Jake Wheeler.”

She gasps again.

“What?”

“You kissed under a meteor shower.”

“Yes.”