Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 120631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 603(@200wpm)___ 483(@250wpm)___ 402(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 603(@200wpm)___ 483(@250wpm)___ 402(@300wpm)
Wren appeared, carrying a recognizable box from The Harbor Crumb, and Jocelyn’s eyes widened. “Is that what I think it is?”
Wren laughed and set the pastry box on the table. “Since you’re technically company, I convinced Greyson we needed dessert.” She opened the box to reveal a freshly baked apple pie. “I couldn’t talk him into ice cream, but Esther’s pies are so good I doubt we’ll need it.”
“You should tell Greyson to worry about his own figure and leave you alone.”
“It’s not my figure he’s worried about. It’s my glucose. The doctor insisted we watch my sugar intake.”
“God, you’re turning into such an adult. I don’t even know what glucose is. Are you okay? I had no idea.”
“I’m fine. It’s just a pregnancy thing. It’s really not a big deal if you manage it. And, once the baby’s born, everything usually goes back to normal.”
“Everything?” Jocelyn lifted her brows, and Wren looked down at her engorged chest.
“I know. I’m huge. My nipples are unrecognizable. And I’m starting to freak out about childbirth.”
She squeezed her hand to offer some supportive courage. “You’ll be fine, Wren. You’ll have the baby exactly as planned, in a peaceful birthing pool with a doula chanting over you while Greyson rubs you down with lavender and Enya plays in the background.”
“That’s what I’m hoping.”
“Of course it is.” She refilled her wine glass and unearthed the pie. “Where’s a knife?”
“I left it on the counter.”
When she moved to stand, Jocelyn jumped to her feet. “You sit. I’ll get it.”
“Thanks. My feet are killing me. I overdid it today.”
When Jocelyn returned and cut into the pie, Wren studied her for a long minute.
“You know you can talk to me, Joce.”
“I know.”
“About anything. I’d never judge you.”
“I know that, too.”
Wren quietly wrung her napkin, then she exploded, “I can’t take it anymore!”
Jocelyn flinched, still holding the knife. “What?”
“I know about you and Soren.”
Jocelyn drew back, waiting for her heart rate to drop. “Excuse me?”
“You and Soren. I know about you two. I’ve known for a while.”
“What are you talking about?”
“No way are you denying this, Jocelyn. It was bad enough knowing and waiting for you to confide in me all this time. We’re not doing the thing where you actually lie to me. I’m your best friend. You’re supposed to tell me this stuff.” Her voice broke before she got the last sentence out. “Cut me a big piece of pie.”
“Jesus, Wren. Don’t cry.” She slid her a large slice.
“Well, you’ve been lying to me!” She blew her nose into the crumpled napkin. “And I don’t mean to cry, but pregnancy makes me extra emotional. I’m not even upset. I’m pissed.”
“You’re pissed?”
“Yes! It’s been eighteen months, Jocelyn.”
Holy shit, she even had the date right. This was bad.
Jocelyn handed her a fork. “Look, it’s nothing.”
“Nothing? You’ve never been with anyone longer than a night.”
“Ouch.”
“I’m not saying that to judge your lifestyle. I’m just saying, if you’ve been sleeping with the same guy for a year and a half, it’s definitely something. I saw you today when that blonde whore showed up.”
Taken aback by Wren’s fierce words, she gaped and laughed. “Do you even know her?”
“No. But who the hell does she think she is, kissing Soren like that?”
“She could be a perfectly nice person, Wren.”
“Oh, please.” She shoveled a bite of pie into her mouth. “She’s not at all his type.”
Jocelyn frowned. “Wren, I’m pretty sure they’re dating because she is exactly his type.”
The fork hit the plate with a clatter. “What? Are you saying he’s in a relationship and sleeping with you?”
“No. Well… He’s allowed to date.”
“What about you?”
“What about me? I told you, there’s nothing serious going on between us. We’re just passing time.”
Wren frowned. “You’re not sleeping together?”
“Well…”
“See, it’s still going on, so it has to mean something.”
“There is no it.”
She rolled her eyes. “When’s the last time you slept together?”
“Wren—”
“Don’t even. When I finally slept with Greyson, you made me tell you every dirty detail. You owe me the truth.”
Jocelyn pursed her lips, unable to argue with her there. “Last week.”
“Last week? And he’s still seeing that floozy?”
“We don’t have rules. He’s allowed to see whoever he wants. Besides, I’m pretty sure it’s over between us.”
“Why? What happened?” The dramatic disappointment in her voice gave Jocelyn pause.
“How are you so invested in this?”
“Um, two of my best friends are having sex. That’s a pretty big deal.”
“It’s just sex.”
“There’s no such thing as just sex.”
“You think that, because you’ve only ever slept with Greyson. Trust me, for other people, casual sex is only sex.”
“I’ve known Soren my entire life. Nothing about that man is casual.”
“Exactly. And Soren and I were less than casual. We’re, like, eight stories below casual, somewhere in the basement of accidental. He’s a fuck boy. A drive-by booty call. It was never turning into anything more.”