Latte Darling: Chapter 13
“So…” Elouise stares at me over the top of her refilled coffee cup. “Let me get this straight.”
I groan and pull one of the spare couch pillows up until it’s covering most of my face. “We don’t need a recap.”
Elouise laughs, “Au contraire, my friend.” She raises a finger as she ticks off the highlights of my evening. “Your date’s dad shows up and instead of saying thank you for the information and calling it a night, you invite him to join you and then proceed to get shitfaced.”
I lift my chin enough to talk over the pillow. “If you’re gonna recap, get it right.” I hold up my own fingers, “He sat down on his own, I didn’t invite him. And I was mildly drunk, not shitfaced.” Elouise raises a brow and I sigh. “Okay I was mostly drunk, but still not shitfaced. That implies falling over and puking, of which I did none.”
She shrugs in consent, then continues on with the night’s events. “He then drives you home, in his-” she makes air quotes, “very nice car. And yet again, instead of calling it a night you invite him in for a sandwich.”
I let the pillow muffle my groan. I don’t actually remember if I invited him in or if he just did that on his own, but I know trying to clarify that now would be a moot point.
“Then,” Elouise almost cackles, “you get into your skimpiest pajamas, invite him into your bed, and rub yourself to completion all over his big, glorious body.” More air quotes.
“You’re the worst,” I grumble. “And to completion? Really? Who says that?”
She lifts a shoulder. “Am I wrong?”
“No, but you’re a bitch.”
She laughs, knowing I don’t really mean it.
Even though Elouise is giving me a bunch of shit, it feels good to talk it through. If she hadn’t shown up on my doorstep, I’m sure I would’ve spent the day overthinking every second of last night, sending myself into a depressive spiral.
Not to say my mind won’t go there after she leaves, but Elouise gets me. She knows how much I want a relationship. And after I explained how I wanted a date for her wedding I saw the twinge of guilt in her eyes. She has nothing to feel guilty over, and I told her that, but no matter what I say she won’t shake that layer of responsibility. So really, laughing over my dating disaster is the best thing for both of us.
“Hear me out,” Elouise starts, “I know this might be cringe, but you could always message Brian and ask him for his dad’s phone number.”
I feel my mouth pop open as I stare at Elouise. “You can’t be serious.”
“Look, I get that it’d be weird, but clearly you like the guy. And you don’t have any other way to get a hold of him. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“Hmm, but what would I say?” I tap my chin and make an over-exaggerated thinking face. “Oh, I know! I’ll say – hey, sorry you got grounded last night. But don’t worry about standing me up, because your dad showed up to our date. And as you probably know, he’s hot as fuck. And I’d really like to get my hands on that girthy Coke can cock again, so could you give me his number? And if this thing works out between us, we’ll have to decide if you should call me mom or sister because I call Axel Daddy, too.”
There’s a beat of silence before Elouise laughs herself off the couch.