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She gave Becca a smile.

“So, where are we going?” she asked, avoiding Becca’s question.

“I told you,” Becca began, “La Vida Mocha. I want coffee.”

“Oh, right!” Krissy put her car in gear and started driving out of the alley. “Your wish is my command.”

Chapter 5

Becca noticed how Krissy sidestepped being baited into admitting that she’d had a playmate over this morning.

Just as well. She really didn’t need to hear another tale about Krissy’s bedroom escapades. Sometimes, it was like listening to an audiobook version of a lesbian erotica novel. It was really starting to bother her, too. Two weeks ago, she’d also had Sunday off and so she had been able to play volleyball with the gang. In the locker room, she had overheard Krissy telling Charlotte about some blonde she had had drinks with the night before. Krissy, as per usual, had been very detailed in describing what the blonde looked like, down to the snake tattoo that ran from the woman’s ankle all the way up her thigh to her pelvis.

Becca hadn’t been able to put in her AirPods fast enough; mercifully flooding her skull with a Billie Eilish song before Krissy got to the part where she and the blonde ended up in bed—because drinks with Krissy always meant sex with Krissy.

Becca knew she really had to get over whatever this…change was in her attitude toward her best friend. She was sure it was nothing; that it was just a…fatigue, of sorts with Krissy’s single-til-the-day-I-die lifestyle of casual hook-ups and one-night-stands.

But if it was nothing, then why had Becca’s heart jumped when she got in the car just no

w and saw how Krissy looked today, even though she had seen Krissy wearing athletic gear countless times before? It was practically the uniform of SoCal women.

And yet, the way the color of Krissy’s lip gloss matched her yoga shorts…It was this shimmery, coppery color and for some reason, Becca thought it was incredibly hot the way the two completely unrelated things—lips and shorts—coordinated.

And now, as Krissy was driving, Becca couldn’t help but keep sneaking peeks at the way Krissy’s nipples were poking against the fabric of her yoga bra.

Thankfully, her phone chirped, breaking the spell. Yet another text from her mother.

“New girlfriend?” Krissy asked.

Was there an edge to her voice?

“My mom,” Becca answered. She then shook her head. “I just can’t right now…” She fired off a group text to her parents and sisters telling them she was okay and that she’d call them later. Right now—though she didn’t tell her family this—she just wasn’t in the mood for recounting the story of how YouTube Becca saved that firefighter’s life.

“Seriously, though,” Krissy began while they were stopped at a red light, “you weren’t worried that you were going to die when you grabbed that fireman?”

Becca rolled her eyes.

“First of all, it was a firewoman,” she informed her friend. “Secondly, it was pure instinct, Krissy. I don’t know how to explain it other than I’m in the business of trying to save lives. If I see someone’s life in danger, I have a hair trigger response and I act.”

“Good to know in case the zombie apocalypse actually does happen,” Krissy said.

“Oh, please,” Becca replied. “In a zombie apocalypse, you would be among the first to be zombiefied because you’d have sex with the nearest zombie that had nice boobs.”

Krissy uttered an indignant gasp. The light turned green and she continued driving.

“I would not have sex with a zombie!” she said.

“But you’d have sex with a ghost,” Becca pointed out, recalling a similar—and equally ridiculous—conversation they’d had a couple of years ago.

“Grace Kelly’s ghost!” Krissy exclaimed. “There’s a difference!”

“How do you even have sex with a ghost anyway?” Becca asked.

“I don’t know! How did Demi Moore do it in that stupid movie? Besides, why don’t you ask Audrey Hepburn? You said you’d have sex with her ghost.”

“Oh, yeah…I forgot about that.”

“Besides,” Krissy went on, “if you saw me having sex with a zombie, you’d come and save me. You just said, if you see someone’s life in danger, you react.”