“Probably bunnies and puppies,” she says with annoyance, and I can’t help but laugh.
“Close, so close,” I mutter.
“What was that?”
“Nothing!”
“Right.” The microwave beeps and she pops the door open. “Ow, ow! Fucking fuck. That shit is hot!”
She empties the contents into a bowl, just like I like, and comes back into the living room.
“Anyway,” she says as she takes a seat on the couch and passes me the bowl after taking a handful for herself. She doesn’t actuallysaysorry, but I know that’s what this is. “Tonight, you and me, Lola’s. Let’s go get our dance on.”
“Do I have to?”
She eyes me and then the popcorn.
Maybe she wasn’t apologizing. Maybe she was just buttering me up for a favor.
Ha. Buttering—because popcorn.
“Yes, you have to. It’s a Saturday—we are not sitting around in our jammies all night,andyou have to put your phone away while we’re out. No Rob. This is a girlsonlynight.You’re spending way too much time on this one guy. You need to get out there and explore your options—you know, with arealguy.”
“Robbie,” I correct, even though she doesn’t care. “I thought this was a ‘girls only night’—doesn’t that mean no bringing guys home?”
She scrunches her nose. “Don’t get crazy, Monty. We’ll see where the night leads us.”
* * *
“I still can’t believeyou wouldn’t change.”
I glance down at my outfit and shrug. “Why would I?”
“Because you look like you’re going to church, not a bar.”
“I’m wearing the shortest skirt I own!” I hiss. “I would never wear this to church.”
“And yet it still comes down to your knees.”
“I’ll have you know this isat leasttwo inches above my knees.”
“Prude,” she retorts with a grin. “Let’s go grab a table.”
Her words have me reeling, and I find myself studying the vast differences between our outfits as we make our way through the crowded bar.
Denny is wearing a pair of skintight jeans and a top I’m certain is more of a swimsuit cover-up than a garment meant to be worn in public.
Iamwearing my shortest skirt, and it feels as if everything is hanging out even though it does nearly come to my knees. My top isn’t anything to glance twice at, just a plain white t-shirt, and I’m wearing a sensible pair of canvas shoes. I let Denny do my makeup and curl my long, red locks, and it’s the most dressed up part of me.
We do an entire lap around the bar before she finally settles down at one of the few empty tables.
“Guess this one will have to do,” she says on a sigh before waving a waiter over our way.
A guy who looks like he just stepped off the Jersey shore saunters our way, and there’s an instant spark in Denver’s eyes.
Looks like she’s found her prey for the night.
“What can I get for you two beautiful bombshells tonight?”