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“But I confess I’m jealous.” Jess breaks into my thoughts, sparing me from another fight with the inner voice. “I’ve been too slammed at work to have time to swipe right on the apps, let alone meet up for drinks or dong. Though dong honestly doesn’t sound very good right now. Argh, I have to pee so bad!”

“Then go pee!” Evie shouts. “It’s not good for your body to hold it, Jessica Allison Cho. Or your soul.”

“My soul is fine,” Jess shouts back.

“Your soul is a gentle creature that should be handled with care.” Evie, our resident art therapist and likely the sweetest human on the planet, crosses to pet Jess’s bent head. “Imagine your soul is a child in your care. Would you force a little kid to go without food or clean socks or bathroom breaks until they got their homework done?”

“My soul is not a child. My soul is a focused adult who will take care of her bathroom needs as soon as she casts the demons out of this code.” Her shoulders hunch closer to her ears. “Don’t pet me. Petting makes it harder to hold the pee in.”

“Okay, fine,” Evie says, before leaning down to whisper in Jess’s ear. “But you should go to the bathroom, Jessica. The code demons will still be there after you’ve had a break and some dinner. And maybe a head-clearing shower. Doesn’t that sound nice? A hot, steamy shower? All that warm water gushing out of the showerhead, running down your shoulders and trickling, sprinkling, splattering as it rushes—”

“Fine, you wretched woman.” Jess lunges forward, setting her laptop on the coffee table before she bolts for the bathroom, calling over her shoulder, “But I’m not having dessert until I’m done. Punishment works for me. It really does.”

“Whatever you say, pumpkin,” Evie calls after her, a smug smile on her face that makes me shake my head. “What?” she asks, arching an eyebrow my way.

“You’re sassier than you were pre-Ian,” I say, making her grin go goofy around the edges.

“I am, aren’t I?” She shrugs. “I just feel more confident than I used to, I guess.”

“Riding a gorgeous, NHL superstar’s cock all night long will do that to a girl, I hear,” I observe.

Evie’s cheeks flush pink and she giggles that soft, secret giggle only mention of her devoted boyfriend can summon from her lips.

I fight the urge to gag as I add, “But no. None of that. Giggling rubs salt in the wounds of all of the people not getting laid around here.”

“Hey, it’s been three weeks for me,” she says.

“Oh, no, three weeks,” Cam deadpans from the kitchen. “You poor thing.”

“Your suffering is unimaginable,” I add in a matching faux tragic tone, making Cam snort.

Ian transferred to the Portland Badgers hockey team not long after he and Evie became an item, but so far, the two of them are making the whole long-distance thing work. But they’re crazy about each other and love makes all things possible…or so I’ve heard.

“Har har. But seriously, it feels like forever, and Ian won’t be home until Christmas,” Evie continues, crossing to accept a bowl of stew as Cam passes it over the counter. “His game schedule is too packed.”

“Speaking of packed,” Cam says, glancing at the clock above our television on the opposite side of the room. “Would you guys be able to handle the dishes for me? I need to eat fast and jump in the shower, or I’ll be late to meet Gertie.”

“Gertie?” I echo, at the same moment Evie asks, “How old is this new friend? I mean, I know you like older women, Cameron, but…”

“She’s thirty-three,” Cam says, narrowing his eyes. “And trust me, she’s hot enough to pull off a grandma name. Hopefully, tonight goes well, and you’ll get to meet her and her kick-ass maple martini recipe at our New Year’s Eve party.”

Evie groans as she settles into her seat at our long dining table. “Nope. Never drinking hard alcohol again. You know what happened last time.”

“The internet will never let us forget,” Jess says as she returns from the bathroom with a much more peaceful expression on her face. “I still see the meme about your drunk-girl urges everywhere.” She sighs. “Thanks for making me pee, by the way. I really needed that.”

Evie grins and digs into her stew. “You’re welcome. Now tell us about this latest disaster. Is that guy on your team sabotaging you again?”

Conversation turns to Jess’s latest work woes and Evie’s upcoming art show at the college. I listen with half an ear as I scroll through my favorite streaming app on my phone, looking for a chick flick for after dinner, since it’s going to be just us girls.

The thought is barely through my head when there’s a knock on our front door—three fast thumps that make the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.


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