Page 45 of Play Me

CHAPTER

TWENTY-SEVEN

Astrid

“We haven’t been here in forever,” Audrey says as Chessie, our server, escorts us to a round table in the corner of the restaurant. “I can’t even remember what I order.”

“They have great salads,” Gianna says, taking a seat between me and Audrey.

Rhubarb, the little place we serendipitously found a few years ago, is one of our favorites. It used to be in our constant rotation but fell out for some reason last fall. None of us can remember why.

I place my purse on the empty chair at my side, taking in the warm, welcoming ambiance.

The owners, Marcie and Geoff, told us that the name Rhubarb came from the paint color they chose for the interior.

Marcie had her heart set on the pinkish-red hue titled rhubarb and it became the whole theme for the place.

Then Geoff went into a scientific study about why they chose mustard as an accent color, and how restaurants routinely brand themselves with an orange scheme because it triggers something in your brain and makes you hungry.

I could’ve lived the rest of my life and not known that.

Chessie sets three menus on the table. “Can I get you started with drinks and an appetizer?”

“Sangria for me,” Gianna says.

“Do you know what? I’ll take a strawberry lemonade,” I say.

“Ooh. I’ll take a strawberry lemonade, too,” Audrey says. “And no appetizer, thank you.”

Chessie scribbles on a notepad and promises to return with our drinks shortly.

“I didn’t get the memo that we weren’t ordering alcohol,” Gianna says, handing us each a menu. “I thought we were celebrating tonight.”

Audrey takes the laminated sheet from Gianna. “Well, since we haven’t gotten many details so far, maybe it was gross and there’s nothing to celebrate.”

“Come on,” Gianna says, snorting. “You’ve seen the man. If there’s anything gross about him, I’ll stop using blue on my nails—and you know how I feel about that.”

The menu is familiar, hosting the same dishes as it did last year, and I scan the lists for my favorites. As I check out the pulled pork sandwich and try to recall whether it’s peanut-free, a smirk slips across my face.

“You have two choices. I found a Rice Krispies treat and a chocolate bar. Neither say they have peanuts in them, but … how do you know? Do we trust these companies?”

“See what I mean?” Gianna sighs. “We’re celebrating for sure.”

I pull down my menu and realize that my friends were watching me. Very little gets by them, and my grin certainly didn’t. Gianna’s brow is quirked, and Audrey bites her bottom lip looking like she’s ready to leap from her chair and dance out of happiness.

God, I love them.

“It was a total ten out of ten,” I say, unable to stop from smiling. “Highly recommend.”

Gianna and Audrey giggle, clearly happy for me.

“I know you want details, but I don’t even know where to start,” I say. “It’s the most unexpected thing to ever happen to me … repeatedly.”

My thighs clench together at the thought of all those repeated moments. The truck bed, the ground, the shower. The bed. And since we’ve been back to town, we can add Gray’s kitchen counter and sofa, and my bed and on top of my washing machine in the spin cycle.

What a time to be alive.

“Repeatedly,” Gianna says, eyes twinkling. “Attaboy, Gray.”

Chessie brings our drinks to us, and we place our orders quickly. Audrey, of course, orders what one of us gets instead of making her own decision. Chessie is barely out of earshot before Gianna’s throwing questions my way.

“So where do things stand?” Gianna asks. “Are we friends with benefits? Enemies with bennies?” She wags a finger my way. “I’ve done that before and, let me tell you, it was some of the best sex of my life.”

I sip my lemonade, using the action to buy me some time. I knew this question would come up and I’ve contemplated how to answer it over the last few days. Unfortunately for me, I didn’t find an answer and that’s left me in a place of uncertainty. And uncertainty? It’s something I don’t do well.

“Honestly, I don’t know where things stand between me and Gray, and I’m afraid to think about it too much,” I say.

“It’s just crazy to think I’m in this position with him, considering I hated him when we first met.

And now, a few weeks later, and I’m trying to decide whether our week of having sex on every surface I can think of means anything more than we like to fuck. ”

I pull my phone from my purse and find a number I don’t recognize on the screen. Whoever it is gets sent to my voicemail.

“Where do you hope they stand?” Audrey asks much more gently than Gianna.

I shrug. “Again, I don’t know. It’s not like I set out to date this guy.

I didn’t match with him on an app or meet him in a bar and decide that I was, in fact, going to engage in a relationship with him.

It just happened. It’s fun for now—a lot of fun, really.

But I have no clue how he sees things. Does he think there could be something between us?

Is he just playing around with me while he’s stuck in Nashville and expecting me to understand that?

” I frown. “I don’t want to get my hopes up. ”

Audrey plays with the pearl on her necklace. “It’s okay to be hopeful. If you don’t have hope in life, you have nothing at all.”

Gianna rolls her eyes. “As sweet as this is, let me be the voice of reason and point out that this has transformed pretty quickly.”

Audrey holds up a hand. “I will admit that I’m not as experienced as either of you—especially our friend Gianna here—but I do feel like I have a valid point.

” She clears her throat, sitting a bit taller in her chair.

“I think it speaks for itself that you were able to take this relationship, albeit quickly, from hating his guts to letting him up in yours.”

My jaw drops.

“Audrey Maria Van!” Gianna says gasping. “What just came out of your mouth?”

I cover my mouth, giggling at them. Audrey’s face is as red as the walls of Rhubarb, and Gianna’s a hilarious mix of shock and pride.

I can’t believe she said something borderline crude.

But, considering she’s around Gianna a lot, it’s surprising that it’s taken this long for her to shed some of her good-girl tendencies.

“Can we go back to the point you were trying to make, Auddie?” I ask, giving her an out.

“Yes,” she says quickly. “I was trying to say that it’s been a natural progression from enemies to semi-friends to lovers, and there’s something beautiful and organic about that.

It’s not like you met him, gave in to lust, and then had to backtrack and figure out all the bad parts of the guy so you could fall in love with him.

You started at the bad and then worked your way to the good. ”

“I’m not in love with him,” I say, lifting a brow.

“And let’s nix lovers from our vocabulary,” Gianna says. “It sounds so two-minute missionary to me, and I can guarantee you that Gray Adler isn’t that.”

I smirk. “No, no, he isn’t.”

Audrey sighs, frustrated with us—but that’s par for the course. “All I’m saying is that you trust him, Astrid, because you wouldn’t have let it get this far if you didn’t. And coming from you, I think that speaks volumes.”

Chessie approaches us with our meals. The salads are beautiful with fresh lettuce and spinach, perfectly grilled chicken, and homemade croutons. We dig in as soon as she leaves.

“What do you want to happen with Gray, Astrid?” Audrey asks. “In a perfect world, where do you see this going?”

I stab a piece of chicken and then shove it in my mouth. It’s rude to talk with your mouth full.

Her question assumes that I have a say in what happens between me and Gray. And, to some extent, I do. But if he wants to shut things down and walk away, then I don’t. I’m wary of having a door shut in my face. Again.

But this is the thing that’s kept me up every night this week.

It’s impossible not to wonder if us seeing each other nearly every night and texting on and off all day means we’re headed in a certain direction.

The selfies and quick check-ins between errands or practices feels like more than two friends.

I don’t text Gianna and Audrey like I’ve been communicating with Gray.

My phone lights up, and I glance down and see Gray’s name and the little cowboy boot emoji beside it. I pick it up, opening the app with butterflies in my stomach.

Gray : We won. A bunch of guys got banged up, so we get Sunday and Monday off to rest.

Me: Is everyone okay? Are YOU okay?

Gray : I’m fine. No one’s seriously injured. It’s just the last leg of the season and everyone’s tired and the damage is starting to accumulate.

Me: Need a massage?

Gray : I need something, but I don’t know if a massage is it.

My fingers fly across the keys.

Me: I volunteer as tribute.

Gray : LOL We’re on our way home, but it’ll be late as hell when we get in. Want to come over tomorrow?

Me: I have to scope out a venue for Renn tomorrow morning at ten o’clock. It shouldn’t take more than an hour or so because I’ve already reviewed the catering options and security protocol. I can be out of there and across town to you by one.

Gray : Can’t wait.

Me: Ditto.

I drag my gaze up to my friends. They’re watching me, amused. “What?”

“I know that look,” Gianna says, tossing a crouton in her mouth. “You were just setting up a fuck date.”

“You don’t get bonus points for knowing that, because even I could decipher that one,” Audrey says.

Good to know I’m broadcasting my business all over my face.

Gianna sighs, picking up her fork. “It’s just strange that it’s you and not me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for you. Thrilled, really. I want you to be the happiest little redhead in all the land, but my life is boring right now and I’m jealous.”

“What’s happening at work?” Audrey asks her. “I’m sure that’s not boring.”

“No, not boring,” Gianna says. “But not exciting in a good way. Remember the guy who I saw last weekend?”

“The guy screwing the other guy’s wife?” I ask, pouring my vinaigrette on my salad.

She nods. “Yes. Him. Well, I made it clear that we weren’t a match and told him—nicely, of course—to be on his merry way. He’s called, texted, and emailed me daily. I’ve blocked him on everything I can block him on, but he’s now making fake Social accounts to message me.”

“Are you safe?” Audrey asks, concerned.

“Yeah, I don’t like the sound of this,” I say, exchanging a worried glance with Audrey.

“It’s fine. I threatened him with a restraining order yesterday and haven’t heard from him since. Speaking of emails,” Gianna says. “Did you get mine about the extension for your column response, Astrid?”

I nod, trying to spear a crouton. “Yeah. I’ve been working on it, but I won’t rush until you tell me when you need it.”

“Perfect.”

Chessie swings by and drops off our check. I slide it next to my plate so I can ensure my friends let me pay the tab. Not only is it my turn, but I’m now making double my income thanks to Renn. If Joe comes through for me, my financial life just might be salvageable.

And, if the stars align, my personal life might be salvageable, too.

“Guess who I met in Sugar Creek, Audrey,” I ask.

She lifts brow, taking a drink of her lemonade.

“A fighter. He’s one of Gray’s friends. Brooks something.”

“I’ll have to ask Drew if he knows him,” she says. “Speaking of which, I’ve decided that I don’t want to wait until the Cape to make my move on Seth. I’m going to pop up in Boston and ask him to dinner and make a go at it. Do you think that’s a bad plan?”

Gianna leans forward and laughs. “No, it’s not a bad idea. It’s a great one.”

“And we’re here for you every step of the way,” I say. “Tell us when you need us and we’ll help you pick outfits, go with you to get your nails done—whatever you need.”

Audrey sits taller, her smile touching the corners of her eyes. “Thank you, guys. I love you so much.”

“Love you, too, Auddie,” Gianna and I say.

I sit back with my lemonade and listen to my friends go back and forth about whether Audrey needs to go shopping before her big Cape Cod weekend.

It brings a smile to my lips. We have been there for each other through thick and thin.

We’ve cheered each other on, held each other when we’ve cried, and shared more laughs than I could ever count. They’re a cheat code for life.

For a long while, I truly believed that if I had to survive the rest of my life with only Gianna and Audrey, I could be happy. And I still firmly believe that. They’re the greatest friends.

But if there’s something this weekend’s shown me, it’s that I love being with someone who is there for me in ways that they can’t—ways that I didn’t realize were so important.

Someone who can shield me from the world when I need it, even if I won’t admit it.

Someone with the biggest heart who cares for me in the smallest, most intimate ways, and gives amazing orgasms. Let’s never underestimate the power of the big O.

I didn’t realize I needed that until Gray.

Gray’s presence in my life brings a whole new level of fulfillment.

I didn’t understand how it felt to have someone want to know you, to ask questions, and to be patient enough to hear the answers.

Being in his arms, in his sphere, colors my world differently …

and sometimes my knees and breasts and lips.

I blush and turn back to my salad as Gianna starts one of her famous work stories.

Maybe Audrey is right. Maybe it’s okay to hope for something more. And if it’s not, I might be screwed.