My jaw drops. “You’ve been talking to Corey?” As outraged as I want to be about that, I’m really deflecting her mention of my neighbor.
She shrugs. “He wants you back. Says he’s sorry.”
Ella rolls her eyes. “Of course, he is. He realizes the grass isn’t greener on the other side. The girl was what, twenty?”
“Twenty-one, if I had to guess.” I hate the reminder. “Not much older than you.” My words are directed at Ella.
“And isn’t Joel twenty-something?” Amelia asks, looking pleased with herself.
Inwardly, I groan. “Yes, and that’s the point. He’s too young for me. We’re friends. That’s it.”
“Uh-huh.” Amelia lifts her head heavenward for a second. “You guys eat dinner together once a week, and he’s your personal trainer.”
As she spouts off his stats like a news reporter, I regret telling Amelia about him.
“He’s an artist who moonlights as a personal trainer. We run and go to the gym together on occasion. But I don’t pay him.”
“Even better. So now when you fuck him, it won’t feel like you’re paying him to do it.” Amelia laughs so hard she starts to tear up.
“Why have I not heard about him?” Amusement crinkles the corners of Ella’s eyes as they bore into me.
As much as I love her, Amelia and I have always been closer. We’re two years apart, and we’re both married. It’s just been easier to talk about my life with her.
“Oh. My. God. He’s, like, so hot. Tall, about the same height as Corey, but sexier. Thick dark hair, with scruff on his face and beautiful blue eyes. And you should see his ink.”
How had Amelia noticed so much in the few seconds she met him that one time?
“He sounds delicious.” Ella might have been responding to Amelia, but her focus is squarely on me.
He’s all that and more, I muse. He’s starred in many of my fantasies that have ended with my vibrator in my hand.
“He’s too young. Not happening. So don’t go there.”
“Fine,” Ella says. “Truth or dare?”
Shit. “I thought you gave up on that.” Ella shakes her head. “You cannot dare me to have sex with anyone.” I point my finger at her like a scolding schoolteacher.
“Agreed.” Ella sounds way more sober than Amelia and I do.
I don’t want to answer any more questions about Corey, or even Joel. Neither is here. So I boldly answer, “Dare.”
The grin my sister produces immediately tells me I’ve made the wrong choice.
“This guy has ink, right?” Ella asks, pinning me with her gaze.
“Did I mention he’s a tattoo artist too?” Amelia cuts in.
I groan.
“Don’t wimp out on us. You chose dare, and I’m daring you to get a tattoo. Do something different for once and stop being Little Miss Perfect,” Ella chides.
Doesn’t that bite when your little sister basically calls you out for being boring? Ella has some ink, though it’s hidden.
“Fine.” I take two more shots. “You’re going to have to buy a bottle to get me sufficiently drunk. I hate pain. And Joel says it hurts getting ink sometimes.”
“And where does this gorgeous specimen work?”
My big-mouthed, well-meaning sister Amelia fills her in. Now I know better than to share any secrets with her.
Ella makes the arrangements, getting us an Uber and somehow manages to talk the bartender into selling us a bottle of booze. I’m pretty sure that’s illegal, but I say nothing. Then we are on our way.
“It’s late. How do you know they’re even open?” I complain.
“It’s Friday night. Drunk people do dumb things.” Ella shrugs.
“So this is dumb.” I simplify her statement in hopes of getting out of the dare.
“Of course it is. But it’s a rite of passage. You didn’t get to do all these wonderful things, as you played house with Corey since you guys were in diapers.”
I grumble to myself when the Uber stops in front of a tattoo parlor that’s lit up from the inside. We hop out and go to the door, but it’s locked. Ella commences to beat on it until a looming figure appears on the other side of the glass and says, “We’re closed.”
“But we’re friends of Joel, and it’s my sister’s birthday,” Ella pleads.
“It’s not.” My words go unheard as the guy gives my sister the once-over.
Amelia wobbles on her heels over to me. “Yes, it’s after midnight. Happy Birthday, Livvy.”
She pulls me into a hug while hopping as if she’s twelve and we haven’t seen each other in days.
“See? Can you do us a solid?” Ella asks.
Over Amelia’s shoulder, I spy the guy continuing to check out my baby sister. Either he’s decided she’s cute or the lip-poking thing she’s doing is really working.
“Is she drunk?”
“Of course not. Are you, Livvy?” Ella glares at me.
“Nope, I’m cool.”
He eyes me for a second. “Okay. Come in. Joel’s not here.”
Disappointment clouds Ella’s face. “Great. Here is what I have in mind.”