Page 99 of Muddy Messy Love

God, it must be bad.

She steps closer, plants her hands on my shoulders, suspiciously scans the room, then stares at me, horrified. “I can’t remember his name,” she says, annunciating each word through gritted teeth.

I erupt in laughter. “Jesus, Hannah. I thought you were going to tell me someone hurt you, or after him, you did the rest of the queue.”

She whacks my arm. “Avery, you’re terrible!”

“Huh,” I retort, “I’m not the one who screwed a stranger in a public toilet, am I?” I flash her a wink. It’s completely true. Cole most certainly wasn’t a stranger.

Hannah’s cheeks reignite.

“I’m joking,” I say. “Seriously, don’t beat yourself up. You’ve done nothing wrong. Did you use protection?”

Her arms flop to her sides, and her gaze hits the floor. “That I do remember.” She crinkles her nose. “I sang ‘The Condom Song.’”

“‘The Condom Song’?” My eyes gape, but I can’t stop a shit-eating grin from engulfing my face.

She shudders. “Please don’t make me repeat myself. It was a grade-seven sex-ed thing.”

Laughter threatens to explode from my mouth, but I breathe through it. She sang acondomsong? Oh lordy Lord, this girl is gold.

Her nostrils flare as she inhales. “I don’t do things like this. What kind of mother am I? What got into me?”

“Tequila, by the sounds of it.” I jiggle my brows. “Amongst other things.”

Hannah drops a hand to her stomach, and her face further pales. “Please don’t mention alcohol. I’m never drinking again.”

If she’s still suffering this bad today, yesterday must have been hell.

“Why don’t you just phone him and ask for his name?” I suggest.

She looks at me, dumbfounded, but doesn’t deny having kept his number. “Are you serious? I can’t do that.”

“You never know, he might answer the phone and say it. Or better yet, if he doesn’t answer, his voicemail might tell you.”

“And what if he answers but doesn’t say it?” She shakes her head. “No, no, no, no. I am not doing that.”

“Does he have your number, then?”

She facepalms. “I don’t remember that either.”

The poor girl is two minutes away from crawling into a dark hole for the rest of her days. I squeeze her elbow. “Hey, don’t worry. We’ve all done crazy things, trust me.” If only she knew.

“Well, I don’t do crazy things, Aves. Not typically. I also don’t do men with tattoos and earrings typically. They’re not my type.” Her words say one thing, but the flush of her cheeks and sheepish smile say something else entirely.

I grin. “Well, they do say once you go tat, you never go back.”

Hannah huffs. “That’s not the saying.”

Staring wistfully at the ceiling, I force a dreamy expression. “No, but it really should be.”

“Ugh, please don’t torture me with details of my brother. Then I really will throw up.”

Snickering, I spy two suited-up parents through the window, entering Mini-Bees. “We’re up. I’ll change the nappies today because that’s what kind of awesome friend I am.”

“Thank you,” she says. “If I saw one stinky…oh, shizzle, I can’t even say it.” Hannah clasps her mouth and takes a few seconds to gather herself, then looks at me pleadingly. “Please don’t tell Cole about this. He still thinks I’m sixteen.”

I offer a reassuring smile. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

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