Page 97 of Good Girl

“All right, start at the end. But no distracting me from finding out actual”—she lowers her voice—“sex thing details.”

I burst out laughing. “Oaks, if you can’t say it out loud, I’m not sure I should be telling you.”

She huffs. “I just don’t want everyone else hearing what we’re talking about. It’s none of their business. Besides, I did some internet searches while you were gone, and I learned some things.”

I raise an eyebrow at her. “What things?”

She opens her mouth to answer, then glares at me. “I know what you’re doing. Stop distracting and spill already.”

I grin. When was the last time I felt this carefree? Knowing I have my own money, a stable roof over my head, easily accessible food, more time with my daddies, and potentially, my first ever chick friend is nothing but a huge rush of endorphins.

How is this even my life right now?

“Okay, well first, they gave me all of my rewards from the night before,” I start and quickly rattle them off before she can ask. “Backpack.” I grab the strap and give it a little adjustment, then pull my phone out of the pocket of my denim skirt. “Brand-new phone.”

Then I show her my bracelet. “Jewelry. And a shopping spree for a whole new wardrobe. And some art supplies.”

Oakley comes to a complete stop on the path. There is an annoyed noise made by the people behind us as they have to step around, so I quickly get her going again.

“Holy shit.”

“Uh-huh,” I reply, remembering each separate moment with the guys and how impossible it had all seemed.

“And that was on top of the, what? Original ten thousand dollars?” she asks, eyes bugging out of her head. “Damn, maybe I need to broaden my search filters.”

I shrug a shoulder. “Up to you. Maybe start smaller, though? Do some of the hand job or blow job dates.”

“The what?” she whisper screeches.

I side-eye her. “I think they were ‘getting handsy’ and ‘just a quick taste’?”

Her eyes bug out of her head. “Oh my god, they do not mean that.” I stare at her for a moment, and if it’s possible, her eyes widen even more. “No way.”

I shrug, again. “You’re the SugarLife app expert, you tell me.”

“I am so messaging my sister about this,” she mutters before returning to the conversation. “Okay, tell me the rest.”

“Well, they have requested another extension,” I say as we round the corner of a huge building and see what is clearly the coffee shop built into the ground level.

“Shut up! Another one?” she exclaims as she grips my bicep with both hands and jumps up and down, with me basically dragging her along.

“Yup.” I nod as I reply, grinning at her.

I scan the space, and there are picnic tables everywhere, some with massive umbrellas protecting people from the sun. There are a few massive, gorgeous oak trees here and there, lending a shaded vibe to the space.

“For how long this time? The rest of the week?”

I’m about to answer her, but it’s my turn to pause mid-step. “No, they fucking did not.”

Oakley follows my gaze to the sign above the door and laughs. “They did.”

I stare up at the sign. “They called their shopGrinder? They do know what it means, right?”

“I have no idea,” she replies as we push through the door, a little bell jingling and cool air-conditioned air chasing away the heat from outside. “I think it has something to do with a pun about the coffee and all of NU’s sporting teams, but I’m honestly not interested enough to figure it out.”

We silently make the mutual decision to stop discussing my sex life while we wait in line to order. A few people separate us and the barista taking orders, so I glance around the space.

There are tables and chairs everywhere, and there doesn’t appear to be a discernible layout. People just pull tables together to fit the number of people in their group.

---