Page 3 of Waiting for Tuesday

She hurried inside, not even waiting for me to move before she peered over my shoulder. “Is he still here? Were you guys in the shower?” Her black hair was piled on top of her head, and her light blue eyes were wild with worry.

“No.” I laughed. “He’s gone.”

“Shit.” She hit my shoulder. “Then why didn’t you call me back? I was worried about you.”

I bit my lip and gestured to my room with my thumb. “Sorry, my phone?” I pinched the bridge of my nose and moved to the kitchen. “It’s still in the closet.”

I pulled my blender out from the lower cabinet and waited for her to follow. “I’ve just never beenwalk of shamedbefore. It kinda threw me.”

Her eyes narrowed as she hopped up on the counter and grabbed an orange from the basket. “What do you meanwalk of shamed?”

“Well, when I came out of the closet he wasn’t there, and?”

“Why were you in the closet, again?”

I lifted my shoulders. “I don’t know. I was scared, I guess. He was naked, and you know that’s not something I wake up to every morning. It freaked me out.”

Becky sucked in a breath, ready to give me one of her infamous lectures, but I held my hand up to stop her. I lifted my chin to the front window. “After I couldn’t find him in the apartment, Ilooked out the window. There he was, clear as day, walking out of the front gate half naked. He didn’t even have his shoes on, Becks!”

Becky frowned. “I would’ve never expected that from Austin.”

“Austin!” I hit my head, finally remembering. “Do you know him?”

“Just a little. I’ve seen him around the set a few times. I think he’s a model for Frederick Beck.”

Visions of Austin’s perfect ass flashed through my mind, and I nodded. Made sense. “How could you let me go home with a guy like that? A model, Becky? Do I look like the type of girl who sleeps with models?”

“Listen, I tried to get you to leave with me, but you said you were having a good time. Youlookedlike you were having a good time, and Austin said he’d call Uber when you were ready to go. Little did I know his plan was to join you.” She smiled then and quirked one eyebrow. “So… was he any good?”

I shrugged. “That’s the thing. I don’t evenremember.The first guy I’ve slept with in thirteen months, and I don’t even know if I enjoyed it or not. How sad is that?”

Becky narrowed her eyes and leaned forward. “If you don’t remember, then how do you know?”

“I know.” I gave her a hard stare. “I found the condom wrapper.” I yanked open the fridge, feeling frustrated all over again. “I feel like a slut.”

She laughed. “How can you possibly be a slut? You haven’t had sex in a year and a half?”

“Thirteen months,” I corrected.

“Exactly,” Becky uttered. “And who cares if you’re a slut, anyway? There are lots of perfectly happy sluts in the world. It could be fun.”

I laughed, grabbed a jar of chia seeds and added a couple of spoonfuls to the blender. “Like who?”

“Ummm… Joey Tribbiani. Total slut.”

“Yeah, well he’s a guy. Guys can be sluts and no one cares.”

“Which is bullshit,” Becky muttered around a bite of orange. “But okay…” She looked up the ceiling, chewing. “All the women onSex and the City.” She nodded. “Mrs. Roper. Blanche Devereaux,” she added with wide eyes and an equally wide grin.

I narrowed my gaze. “Are you comparing me to one of the little old ladies fromThe Golden Girls?”

She nodded and bit her lip.

“Great. I’m like Joey Tribbiani and horny old ladies.”

She shook her head. “TheSex and the Cityladies aren’t old.”

“Yeah but they live in New York, it’s different.” I slammed a handful of kale into the blender.

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