Page 251 of Off Limits: The Firsts

“I can’t give you her number without asking her, but I could invite you to a little barbecue I’m having tomorrow night. And I might be able to tell you that a certain someone will be there . . . if, you know, you’d like to stop by and say hi or something.”

“Or something.” After Em’s warmth toward me the other day, I can only imagine how thrilled she’d be if I showed up out of the blue.

“She could use a nice guy like you around.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, now curious about the company Emerson keeps.

“Nothing. Oh, make sure you take that uniform”—she gestures up and down my body—“off before you come,” Desi says, completely sidestepping my question. “My friends might get a little freaked if you show up in it. They’re a little free-spirited, if you catch my drift.”

“Seems like most people are these days.”

“Promise me this barbecue is not one of your elaborate ways to set me up with one of your friends.” I take a bite of the carrot dipped in ranch and fight the urge to gag. Nope, still don’t like vegetables. “Why do people eat this shit?”

“Because it’s good for you,” Desi says as she hums around her bright pink kitchen with a black-and-white checkered floor like she’s freaking Martha Stewart.

“No. Sex is good for you. Chocolate is good for you. Wine is even better for you. They feed the soul. This crap,” I say and hold up the carrot, “only serves to make you miserable.”

“Says the woman who could eat nonstop every day and maintain her to-die-for figure.” She rolls her eyes as she wipes her hands on a dishtowel.

I reach for the dish of M&M’s and grab a handful with a grin. “Sucks to be me.” I finish chewing them as she mixes something in a bowl. It looks nasty now, but I know will taste like heaven when she’s done with it. It always does. “I’m serious, Des. You know I love your cooking, but it isn’t enough to keep me here if you play matchmaker again. You try, and I’m gonna bail.”

“Pfft. No you won’t. My cooking is ten times better than anything you could make on the hot plate at your place.”

She isn’t making eye contact with me. That in and of itself makes me question whether I believe this whole party isn’t a ruse to fix me up with one of the many people that come and go in her life. She’s done it so many times, and yet, still has no shame.

“I mean it. I have plenty of men I can call up if I want a good time. I don’t need your help in that department.”

“Yeah. I’m well aware.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I narrow my eyes and stare at her until she looks my way.

“It means you purposely pick men you don’t want to stick around.”

Here we go again.

“And there’s a problem with this . . . why?”

“Because, at some point in your life, you’re going to want a guy who is around longer than just a couple of orgasms, that’s why.” Her tone is serious when I want to be anything but.

“But damn, those orgasms feel incredible.”

“I’m serious, Em. What’s so wrong with settling with one man instead of having many?”

I sigh audibly to let her know I’m done with this conversation. “Many? You make it sound like I sleep around. It’s one man at a time . . . even I have standards. And nothing’s wrong with settling down; it just isn’t for me. You know me—no rings, no strings.”

“You sound like a guy.”

“I sound like me.” I shrug. “Promise me, Des.”

“Ah look, Leo’s here. I’ll get the door.”

“Don’t knock it till you try it, Cassy,” I say to one of Desi’s friends.

“There is no way in hell you’re going to get me to jump out of a plane. No way, no how. I’d have to have about fifteen more of these to even consider it,” she says as she raises her empty glass of wine and shakes her head.

“Drink up,” I tease. “The offer stands, though. You wouldn’t have to do anything other than enjoy the ride since you’d be strapped to me.”

“That sounds like a bad porno, but it still won’t get me to change my mind,” she says through a laugh.