Sophie
Maya and I keep up our tradition of Wine Wednesdays. We sip from white wine a la box, which is a classy affair when paired with our plastic wine glasses, two pounds of fried chicken, and French fries. The whole girls’ night wouldn’t be complete without a grand finale of Hershey’s chocolate.
“This is American dining at its finest.” I groan at the best chicken I’ve had on this side of Europe.
Maya nods along with me. “I only get the best for us.”
“What do you think of the wine? I’m getting a good one-year-old vibe here.” I swish around the contents in my glass and sniff like I know what to smell for.
She picks up the box and analyzes the contents. “It tastes like a bad hangover in the making. Why did you suggest this anyway? There are way better options.”
“I felt like it symbolized being young, dumb, and broke. But now I’m not so sure.”
“Except you’re not dumb, or even broke for that matter.”
I roll my eyes. “Because 8,000 euros will get me really far in life.”
She taps her glass to mine. “So, catch me up on everything between you and Liam.”
“Besides the fact that we did the dirty?”
Maya faces me. “You’ve been holding out on me again!”
“You’ve been busy with your vlog and avoiding Noah, so I didn’t want to make it worse for you. But we had sex and I orgasmed multiple times. The whole thing was amazing so I hope my heart doesn’t get hurt in the process because that would suck.” I tend to suffer from word vomit around Maya.
I take a few sips from my glass of wine while she processes everything. Some people need liquid courage, but I need liquid wisdom because I suck at making decisions lately.
She tilts her head at me. “Why do you think you’ll get hurt?”
“Because I did exactly what you warned me about and started liking him for real?”
Maya shakes her head. Her look of pity reminds me how deep I’m falling, proving how I’m no better than any of the other girls Liam’s been with. I sympathize with them. Okay, more like everyone except Claudia.
“When did you figure this out?”
I think back to last week after he won the Hungarian Prix. “Probably around the fifth time we had sex. It took everything in me to leave his bed and go back to my hotel room. My heart hurt at the idea of him not caring if I left.”
“Oh, no. And did he let you go?”
“No, he cuddles better than a weighted blanket. Snug, warm, and secure.” I hug my glass of wine to demonstrate.
“Have you tried to tell him how you feel?”
My eyes narrow at her. “No way in hell because I’ve learned from Liam’s exes of past and present. Claudia was the biggest exposure therapy, showing me exactly what happens to women who fall into Liam’s love-nest trap. They become bitter and sad while begging for scraps.”
“Well, I know what you need to do.” She puts down her wine glass and clasps her hands together.
“Free therapy and wine, what more can I ask for?”
She offers me a small smile. “You need to be yourself and enjoy the time you have together.”
“How can you count that as advice? That doesn’t exactly help me once it’s over.”
“You’re assuming it may end between you two. What if he feels the same?” Maya looks at me with hopeful brown eyes.
“He doesn’t. Liam never fails to voice his love for his career and how busy he gets. There’s not a week that goes by when he doesn’t mention how little time he has to commit to anything more than a basic intimate relationship. So, all naughty things must come to an end.”
Maya laughs into her wine glass. I don’t want to ruin our girls’ night, so I swallow my feelings and chase them down with wine and chicken tenders.