Page 18 of A Fine Line

She claps her hands together in front of her gleefully. “Yay! Anything at all. Give me the details.”

I chuckle at her outwardly excited response. “We may have canoodled.”

She claps again, dancing in her seat. “Ooh! I love that word. Tell me more.”

My cheeks flush, and I press my cool palms against my heated skin. I don’t know why I’m embarrassed; it’s just sex. Hot, animalistic sex with someone who loathes my very existence. It’s not like Antoinette doesn’t know anything about hot, animalistic sex, given the man she lives with. “That’s pretty much it.”

Her smile is instantly replaced by a frown, and then she looks a bit crestfallen. “Really? That’s it? All I get is canoodled?”

My initial awkwardness is driven by the fact I’ve never had a close girlfriend before. I’ve never had a close friend, ever, and I’m not entirely sure what she wants me to say. So, I try again. “Technically, he caught me checking him out in the middle of an argument, and I didn’t bother trying to hide it because, well, he’s fucking hot. There’s no way you can even pretend that Tony isn’t hot.”

Antoinette nods, her hands fidgeting with her glass as she says, “True! Even I know Tony is hot. Disgusting but still hot.”

I laugh, unsure where she’s going with the disgusting comment and also unsure I want to ask, so I add, “At first, I’m sure he was confused, but it didn’t take him long to get on board, as they say.”

Her eyes widen, and she smiles saucily as she exclaims, “Enemies-to-lovers!Yes!”

“What are you talking about?”

She raises her brows and titters, “You know. Enemies-to-lovers—one of the best tropes ever.”

“I know what enemies-to-lovers is. I don’t see how it pertains to me and that asshole Tony. We had a nice hate fuck. End of story.”

Antoinette gasps and then squeals in delight. “You got to have a hate fuck? I’m so jealous!”

I burst out laughing, shaking my head at her antics. “You are insane. You are an insane person.”

“You have to be an insane person to make it in this life. You’ve met the people I spend the majority of my time with, right?”

I incline my head at her in acknowledgment. She certainly has me there, but I can’t help but be a bit envious of her relationship with those she’s close to. My entire life has been made up of one fucked-up thing after another, and I can’t recall ever being truly close to anyone.

“But you like him a little bit, right?” Antoinette asks, leaning in close like she’s searching my eyes for the secret truth.

I make a face, inclined to immediately deny any possibility that I could ever like him, but something stops me. So, I finally reply, “I don’t dislike him, but I wouldn’t say I like-like him either. It’s a very complicated situation that will likely take some time to work itself out, but I am eternally grateful he’s willing to help me find Flora. For that alone, I can’t hate him.”

Antoinette goes to reply, but then her phone rings. She retrieves it from her jacket pocket, glancing at the screen and making a face before accepting the call and bringing the phone to her ear. “Sup, asshole.”

I snicker, probably a little louder than is appropriate, but I can’t help it. Sometimes, I want to be her.

She listens intently for a few moments, and then says, “Yep.” She pulls the phone away from her ear and ends the call before placing it back into her pocket. She picks up her drink and takes a long sip, humming in pleasure as she swallows the golden liquid. “The best part about not being a big drinker is that on the odd occasion that I decide to, it’s amazing. Like my taste buds haven’t been deadened to the uniqueness of it all.”

I squint as I look between my drink and her a few times. “I mean, it is enjoyable. But I don’t think we have the same taste buds.”

She freezes in her seat, her mouth falling open in disbelief as she reaches over and pushes my drink closer to me. “You’re not doing it right. Take the slightest mouthful, so it barely fills the bottom of your mouth, only to the point where if you open your mouth too much, a little bit might spill out. Then hold it there for a few seconds and roll it around. And swallow it slowly and exhale.”

I look between her and my glass a few more times before relenting. I pick up the glass and do as she says, as she watches me intently. I exhale slowly, certain if someone lit a match on my breath, it would be like a small blow torch. I rub my tongue against the roof of my mouth and then say, “I see what you mean. I suppose I’m not normally that mindful about my drink.”

Her smile is almost blinding, and I can’t help but grin back. I’m shocked things have been so easy with her. I’m also slightly suspicious that it all may be a farce, and she’s buttering me up to see what she can get from me so she can cut me down later.

I do my best to abandon that thought process. No good can come of it, and if nothing else, I may as well enjoy a small reprieve in my otherwise tumultuous life.

We finish our drink in companionable silence, and then she grabs our glasses and carries them over to the sink, where she gives them a quick wash before placing them in the dish rack to dry. She places the bottle back in the cupboard and then does a quick tidy of things that are mostly already tidy before she turns back to me. “Are you ready?”

I rise from my seat and push the chair against the table. “What’s the plan?”

“Don’t you worry, Car. We’re a bunch of wily motherfuckers. You’re gonna have to sit back and watch.”

I frown, following her toward the door and then stopping while she manages the security system. “Sit back and watch what exactly?”

---