Page 5 of Sleepover

“There was another one, too. You just missed him. Tall and dark. Your type.” She leers at me.

“Shut up.”

She’s still staring out the window. “You ever think about calling that guy?”

She’s referring to the totally-out-of-character rebound sex I had right after the divorce papers were signed. I picked him up in a bar, which is so not my thing, but my friends had convinced me it was time to get back on the horse, and they were right. The guy I hooked up with was tall, dark, and broody, as unlike my ex-husband, Trevor, as it’s possible to be, which may have been why I said yes when he offered to buy me a drink. And why I kept saying yes.

“He made it very clear he doesn’t go back for seconds. And besides, I was such a dork that night, there’s no way I could face him again.”

“Too bad.” Hattie knows: the sex was amazing.

I frown. “It was just the circumstances. The things that made him hot as a bar pickup wouldn’t translate to real life. He’d probably turn out to be a jerk.”

“They always do.”

“Amen to that, sister.”

Moment of silence for ex-husbands…

Hattie snaps her fingers. “I have a brilliant idea. Let’s bake cookies and you can take them over tonight. Then you can meet your new neighbor…and wedding date.”

I have to admit, it would be nice to have a date to Trevor’s wedding. My showing up with a hot date wouldn’t even ripple Trevor’s pond, but showing up by myself—or chickening out completely—would just feel wrong. And even if Trevor doesn’t give a crap what I do with my sex life, I want him to at least confront the fact that I still have one.

Sort of. Aside from that one act of rebound sex, it’s been a barren year. But the rebound sex did make me determined to get back in the saddle. It reminded me that sex is too good to give up, even if I do plan to quit counting on men for anything other than orgasms.

“Anyway, regardless, we should make your new neighbors cookies. I mean, what’s the alternative? You want to sit here and stare at that invitation?”

“Hell no.” The less time I spend thinking about Trevor’s wedding, the better.

“So? Let’s bake.” Hattie drops the curtain.

We’re elbow deep in cookie dough when I hear the back door flap open with enough force to smack it into the opposite wall. I sigh. Madden. I’ve asked him a million times, but he’s not the best at being careful with stuff. I’ve mostly learned to take it in stride.

“Mom! Mom! This is Jonah! He’s moving in next door!”

The two boys, muddy from the knees down, explode into the kitchen. Jonah’s got longish dark hair that hangs in his face and brilliant blue eyes and looks vaguely familiar, like I know him from Madden’s school. Eve—my Realtor friend—didn’t know where they were moving from, so it might be somewhere in town.

“Mom, can Jonah sleep over here tonight? He likes to play Battlefront and baseball and football and I’m going to teach him how to play my Jukem and Minecraft card games. And can we watch Cars 3 and will you make us popcorn?”

That might be the longest and most enthusiastic speech that Madden has made since Trevor moved out, and there’s no way I’m saying no.

“Sure, if it’s okay with his dad. Hi, Jonah. It’s really nice to meet you. Welcome to the neighborhood. I’m Madden’s mom. You can call me Elle, as long as your dad is okay with you using first names with grownups. And this is my friend Ms. Rivers.”

“Hi,” says Jonah politely. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Come on come on come on, let’s go play Jukem,” says Madden, and he and Jonah exit the kitchen in a flurry. I call after them, “Shoes off!” but it’s probably too late. That’s okay; I need to vacuum anyway.

“That was so stinkin’ cute,” Hattie says. “How crazy is it, how fast they make friends? A sleepover, and they’ve just met.”

She smirks at me, and I throw a wad of paper towel at her.

---