Page 10 of Overruled

“I think he likes to piss you off,” Nate inserts. “Does it make the sex better or something?”

I groan. “Can we not talk about that?”

“No one asked you to tell me,” Nate says.

Vera frowns. “She didn’t. You overheard us talking.”

“And I was very hurt to have been kept out of the loop,” Nate hmph s.

“So sorry,” I answer, rolling my eyes. “Next time we can just call Manuel in too and loop him in.”

“Ignore him,” Vera says. “It’s how I make it through the day. What happened after?”

I shrug. “Nothing much. I basically packed up and left in a hurry after that. Ran into Ezra’s brother on the way out. That was fun.”

“You met Eli Hart today?”

I curl my lip in distaste, taking a sip of my amaretto sour before answering. “Unfortunately. He might be a bigger asshole than Ezra. I can’t tell.”

“Please.” Nate snorts loudly. “We both know you don’t hate Ezra as much as you pretend.”

Vera twirls the straw in her drink. “She’s allowed to hate him and enjoy his dick. The two aren’t mutually exclusive.”

“ Exactly ,” I stress, snapping my fingers. “If anything about him were half as enjoyable as his dick, I’d marry the man.”

“No you wouldn’t,” Vera and Nate both say at the same time.

Nate and Vera are very aware of my thoughts on relationships. Nate, the romantic, thinks someone will sweep me off my feet one day. Vera, the realist, thinks Nate is an idiot.

“Fine,” I agree, grumbling.

“Sounds like you’re dangerously close to objectifying Ezra Hart,” Nate accuses. “Not very feminist of you.”

“You are not allowed to talk about objectification,” Vera scoffs. “Or feminism. Actually, why did we invite you again?”

He reaches to pluck one of her neat braids in an attempt to twirl it around his finger, laughing when she smacks his hand away. “How can you continue secretly pining for me if I don’t make myself available? I’d hate for you to have to stoop to gazing wistfully into my office.”

“You know, I don’t like you or your dick,” Vera says flatly. “So I’m wondering what I gain from these interactions.”

Nate blows her a kiss. “Don’t knock it until you try it, darling.”

“Can you guys do your weird verbal foreplay somewhere else?” I rub my temples. “I have a headache.”

“You invited us out for a drink,” they both say at the same time again.

“Stop that,” Vera huffs.

Nate laughs. “It’s because we’re so connected .”

“I hate him,” Vera says to the ceiling before giving her attention to me. “You did stop sleeping with Ezra though, right? You said you were going to after the last time.”

“I”—I give my own tiny red straw a twirl, shrugging—“did say that. Yes.”

“That’s Dani-speak for ‘We totally boned again,’?” Nate says.

Vera cuts her eyes in his direction. “?‘Boned’? Really? You’re thirty-five.”

“What would you rather I say? ‘Fornicated’? ‘Made the beast with two backs’? ‘The horizontal mambo’? I could just say they fu—”

“ Shh ,” I hiss. I drop my head to the bar, ignoring the slight stickiness there and forcibly not thinking about when they might have cleaned it last. “I didn’t mean to.”

“You didn’t mean to?” I catch Nate arching an eyebrow at me when I peek at him from the side. “Did you, like, fall on his dick?”

Vera’s nose wrinkles. “Classy.” She turns toward me curiously. “You didn’t, right?”

“I swear to God.” I close my eyes, expelling a breath. “ No. I just…maybe he’s a witch or something.”

Nate leans in, lowering his voice. “I think they’re called warlocks if they’re dudes. Don’t joke about that shit.”

“Had someone hex you lately?”

Vera laughs. “That would check out.”

“I just mean that even though he drives me up the fucking wall, he’s the best sex I’ve ever had.” I raise my head, giving them both a pointed look. “I will deny that if it ever comes up again.”

Nate crosses his heart. “Maybe tell him you want to gag him? You could say it’s a kink of yours.”

I don’t tell him that the filthy words that spill out of Ezra’s mouth actually add to the pleasure of our encounters; I refuse to admit that out loud to anyone. Ever.

“It’s outside the bedroom that’s the problem,” I groan.

Vera cocks her head. “I thought you said you guys don’t do it in bed?”

“What?” Nate looks confused. “Where are you doing it then?”

I shoot Vera a look of warning, then shake my head at Nate. “That’s not up for discussion.”

“Sorry,” Nate says with a faraway look. “I’m just imagining the two of you in like a sex swing or something.”

“Stop imagining us anywhere,” I warn.

“Okay, but seriously,” Vera starts. “You have to nip that shit in the bud. I know you’ve gone head-to-head with him before—”

“Pun intended,” Nate deadpans.

Vera ignores him. “ But , this is the biggest case of your career. I mean, you’re looking at junior partner here. You don’t need any distractions. Not to mention the shitstorm you’d be facing in conflict of interest if anyone else found out.”

“Dick-stractions, one might say,” Nate muses.

“ Shut up ,” Vera and I say at the same time.

“Fine, fine,” Nate acquiesces. He takes a sip of his drink, eyeing me. “Vera’s right, you know.” He notices Vera giving him a look of surprise and adds, “But I won’t be admitting that again.” He eyes me thoughtfully. “Unless…are you sure that you don’t—”

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” I warn.

“I’m just saying,” he tries again. “Obviously you like something about him, even if it’s just his equipment, maybe there’s something more there.”

“There is absolutely nothing more there,” I stress. “I’m not looking for anything more anyway.”

“Listen,” he sighs. “We know better than anyone that products of divorce have issues, but maybe you—”

“Don’t.” I shake my head. The last thing I want to do tonight on top of everything else is end up wallowing over old shit. “This has nothing to do with my parents.”

Vera’s stare is piercing. “I hope it isn’t about Grant.”

“The mysterious Grant,” Nate whispers in awe. “Do I finally get the story?”

“No,” Vera and I say in unison.

“What?” Nate puffs out a breath. “Come on, I know he like broke your heart or something, but neither of you have ever said—”

“Nate,” Vera warns, most likely noticing my frown. She gives me another searching look. “Dani?”

“Of course it isn’t,” I say too quickly.

One of the hazards of being friends with Vera for so long is that she has intimate knowledge of the worst parts of me.

There’s nowhere to hide from her. I sigh, shaking my head.

“It really isn’t. I wouldn’t be stupid enough to let myself get too close to someone like Ezra. Especially not after Grant.”

“Well, then my point stands.”

“I know,” I sigh. “I need to end it. For good this time. It can’t happen again.”

“You said ‘can’t,’?” Vera points out.

Nate nods. “Not ‘won’t.’?”

“ Won’t ,” I correct. “It won’t happen again.”

My friends both stare at me in what I can only describe as pity, like I’m a foregone conclusion. I glare at both of them.

“It won’t ,” I stress.

“Right,” Vera says.

“Sure,” Nate offers.

I shake my head. “I hate you both.”

“Yeah, but you hate Ezra too,” Nate says lightly, “and you let him bend you into a—”

“Do not finish that sentence.”

Vera pats my shoulder. “I have faith in you. Mostly.”

“Lovely,” I mutter.

Vera and Nate start arguing about something or other that I can’t help but tune out, slurping down a big portion of my drink and hoping a buzz will help loosen the tension in my shoulders.

I know that today was just a preview of what will probably be a long and exasperating trial should it come to that, just like I know that my friends are right, that I need to shove Ezra into a “strictly professional” compartment of my brain and leave him there.

My mind is completely on board with this plan.

It’s practically nodding in agreement, applauding this logical decision.

But unfortunately…logic never really seems to have anything to do with my decisions in regard to Ezra Hart.