She gasps. “With me specifically?”
“Yes, you,” I laugh. “Who else? I told mom last week about your bitch roommate and how you’re hating it. You know, she thought two birds, one stone.”
“Holy shit,” she laughs. “Are you for real? We’re moving in together?”
“As long as you say ‘yes’ then we are.”
“Holy shit,” she repeats with a squeal as uncontrollable laughter takes over. “YES! Of course. Oh, my god. This is so awesome. We’re going to live together!”
“You sure?” I question. “Dad’s going to call the realtor tomorrow and put a deposit on it. we’ll have to go and check it out first, but yeah? You’re in?”
“Hell yes, I’m in,” she cheers. “I can’t believe this. We’ve talked about living together for years and now it’s actually happening.”
“I thought you’d be excited about this.”
“Oh, my god,” she chants. “I have to look at the pictures again.” I listen as she flicks through the pictures of our future home, daydreaming about all the things we could do with it. “When are your parents leaving?” she questions.
My eyes widen. “Shit,” I gasp. “Am I a bad daughter if I didn’t ask?”
“Uh, yeah,” she scoffs before bursting out in laughter. “But if I got offered my own place, I’d probably forget to be a decent human being as well.”
“Hey,” I defend as I remember her day yesterday. “How’d your date with Lukas go? Is he the one? Did he sweep you off your feet and give you butterflies while making you stutter over your words and blush like a school girl?”
“What?” she laughs. “First off. I’m not like you. I don’t have those issues when talking to guys. I’m confident and sexy and I know it. And secondly, yes. I think I’m in love. He’s taking me out again during the week.”
I roll my eyes at her comments as I know I get all those girly things every damn time I see Nate. In fact, I’m pretty sure the blushing is starting to become an issue. I don’t even realize I’m doing it, but Nate sees it every time he says something even remotely dirty, giving away my thoughts. The butterflies though, I wouldn’t trade those for the world. They remind me that no matter what, I’m human and the man I’m in love with can make me feel things that no other man ever has.
“Where did he take you?” I ask, excited for her.
“Well,” she gushes, “Because it was so spontaneous, he took me to one of those café’s on campus and bought me lunch, and then we made out beside his car for the rest of the afternoon.”
“What?” I gasp. “You didn’t screw him?”
“No, but don’t get me wrong, I felt his hard-on grinding up against me the whole time and let me tell you, it’s big. He’s hiding a beast between those legs,” she says. “But I told you, I want to date, for real. Like you and Nate. I’m not going to ruin it by jumping straight into bed with the guy. He’ll think I’m some kind of whore and run for the hills.”
“But you are a whore.”
“Shut up,” she laughs. “I really like this one. He was texting me all night and telling me all about his life. He’s taking me on a real date,” she continues to gush. “Like, Maxen never did that shit.”
“Maxen was a high school student when you guys dated. What did you expect?”
“I don’t know,” she grunts. “More than screwing on his parent’s couch.”
“You don’t think Lukas wants to screw you on his parent’s couch?” I ask, trying to remain serious, but let’s be real, we’re discussing doing the horizontal mumbo jumbo on his parent’s couch.
“Of course, he does,” she admits. “What guy wouldn’t? I was putting off some pretty sexy vibes last night. If he doesn’t want to screw me on his parent’s couch, then he’s not a red blooded man.”
“Ok,” I laugh. “We have to stop talking about parent’s couches.”
“Agreed,” she says. “Oh, mom’s calling. I’ll talk to you later.”
“K,” I grunt, hanging up the call, knowing that within the next fifteen minutes, I’ll probably start getting multimedia texts from her filled with pictures of all the furniture and decorative pieces she wants to put throughout our new home. That is, if nobody steals it out from under us by tomorrow morning.
I let out a sigh and look down at the textbooks on my bed and realize there’s no way in hell I’ll be opening them again this afternoon, so with that in mind, I grab my keys and phone and hurry down the stairs.
I poke my head into dad’s home office and give him a beaming smile. “I think I’d like to go with the cottage style house.”
“Good choice,” he says. “I can see you in that one. I’ll call the realtor in the morning and organize an inspection for you girls. How’d Brooke take the news?”