“Wait, cordially?”
“To my place for hot, nasty sex.”
“How did you even pronounce that right on the first try?”
“Far away from judgmental family and friends and… childhood toys,” he adds with a glare toward the floor.
I snort again.
His smirk never stops. “You can accept this invitation, or... you can leave this party, go home, and...” He grimaces. “Sleep alone.”
“I think you’re underestimating how great that sounds,” I say. “I love sleeping alone. I get to sprawl out, hog the blanket—”
“Mel.”
“I can fart as much as I want.”
He shrugs. “You can do that in my bed, too.”
I sigh. “Oh, marital intimacy. How I’ve missed you so...”
“Come to my apartment,” he says, his voice growing deeper with every word, “and we’ll have some fun.”
It’s more than a little tempting, for sure. But I meant it when I said that last night was the last night I’d spend with Robbie Wheeler. Sure, it’d be easy to dive back in with no strings attached, but when I fall for Robbie, I fall hard. If this truly is a new and improved Robbie, then I won’t be able to help myself.
And that will just make leaving Chicago even harder than it already is.
I lick my lips. I kiss his cheek. I put pressure on his chest as I lean forward and stand up.
“No,” I say again. “I’m sorry, Robbie, but...”
He nods. “No,” he repeats, looking disappointed, but accepting.
I give myself a quick once over before escaping into the hallway.
Twenty-One
Melanie
I’m doing the right thing.
I’m doing the right thing.
So, why do I feel so crappy?
I stare at my mimosa on the table, but I haven’t touched it yet. I’ve been locked in an endless thought spiral since last night. I made the right call; I know I did. Robbie and I starting again would be an unmitigated disaster, but...
Still.
I can’t shake this wretched feeling from my stomach.
“Where did you disappear to last night?”
I glance up with the sound of Trix’s voice gently rising over the soft murmur of the Sunday morning Moira’s crowd.
“What? When?” I ask.
“At the party,” she says, squinting. “You ran off after your little spat with Robbie and I didn’t see you for a while.”
“Right, yeah.” I look at the empty chair beside us. Still no Nora yet. It’s not like her to be late. “I went upstairs to my old room. I just needed some time alone.”
“Alone with Robbie?” she asks, clearly knowing more than she’s letting on.
I chortle. No sense in hiding what she’s already figured out. “Yeah,” I say. “He made an appearance.”
Trix stares, her eyes dark and accusatory. “And?” she asks.
“No ands,” I lie. “He gave you the slip, came upstairs, and we talked. He apologized for some stuff and that was that.”
“Sounds like a mature turn of events.”
“Yup.” I nod. “All very mature.”
“Good.” She sips her orange juice. “Good, good, good.”
Right. Good.
And yet...
I take a drink from my flute, but the elixir of bubbles and fruit just ain’t as satisfying this morning. I can’t shake that look on Robbie’s face. How he went from lovesick hurt to sadness to acceptance so quickly. Mature is definitely the word for it. Old Robbie would have shouted and bartered and begged, but he made his case and he accepted my judgment. He came downstairs a few minutes after me and he was the same old likable Robbie, chatting up my family and friends and keeping a respectable distance from me.
I did the right thing.
But I still feel like crap.
“Where’s Haley today?” I ask, happily distracting myself.
“She’s probably sleeping in,” Trix answers with a grin. “The girl didn’t come home until the wee hours this morning.”
“Oh, really?”
“Really.”
“Is there a boy?”
“Of course there’s a boy!”
We laugh, living vicariously through a teenage girl.
“And how does Lance feel about that?” I ask, curious.
“Well…” Trix sips from her water glass. “He’s in some denial.”
“I can imagine.”
“But it’ll be okay. He’s just being a dad. My dad was the same when I first started sneaking around with boys.”
“Mine, too,” I recall.
“I told Lance to be cool,” she says. “She’s an adult, she’s going to do adult things. The weirder he is about it, the less she’ll trust him. And Haley’s a smart girl. He just has to trust that he raised her to make good choices.”
I nod. “That’s good advice.”
“Thank you.”
“Very stepmother-y.”
Trix cringes. “It is, isn’t it?”
I laugh as I sip my mimosa.
“Hey, guys. Sorry I’m late.”
Trix and I smile as Nora swings around the table.
“Everything okay?” I ask, studying her heavy face.
“Uh...” She tosses her coat over the back of her chair. “No, not really.”
“The app?” Trix asks.
“No, it’s Alex,” she says. “He’s officially out of jail.”
“Seriously?” I ask.
She nods. “My lawyer left me a voicemail last night, but I didn’t check it until we got home late. I made a bunch of calls, but there’s nothing we can do. As of seven this morning, he was a free man.”
“How’s Clive taking it?” Trix asks.
“Not well,” Nora answers. “He hasn’t said much, but he was up all night. Neither of us slept.”
“Damn,” I say, reaching for her hand. “Well, that fucking sucks.”
Trix does the same, extending toward Nora. “Do you want me to try to get Lance involved again?” she asks.
“No,” Nora answers.
“Then...” Trix raises a hinting brow. “Do you want me to get Marcus involved?”
Nora chuckles at the implication. “No,” she says. “He hasn’t done anything to warrant that kind of... response.”
“Well, if you change your mind...” Trix winks. “No one will ever trace it back to you.”
“Thanks, but...” Nora shakes her head. “Honestly, we just want to keep moving forward and try to forget all about it.”
I nod. “That’s probably all you can do.”
Trix cants her head at that.
“Legally,” I add.
She smirks. “Yeah, try not to worry too much. You’ve got enough on your plate right now.”
“Speaking of...” Nora grabs the menu near her empty place setting. “I am starving. I have eaten nothing but your mom’s snickerdoodles in like seventeen hours.”
“At least the party was fun,”
