Crazy in Love - Lane Hart Page 0,2
to my lips to start chugging. While I’m busy drinking, Josie jogs to the kitchen and comes back holding my tall, white trash can. Good thinking. She’s such a good friend, and I should be ashamed for pulling her leg.
Once I swallow, the strong, sweet flavor of pineapple is left behind on my tongue. “Yum,” I murmur before putting the stopper back in place.
“Yum?” Josie asks. “Yum? Are you kidding? That shit tasted like the rotten eggs you hide at Easter and don’t find until the summer!”
I lick my lips again to be sure. “What? No,” I reply. “It tastes like pineapples.”
“You gonna barf or not?” she asks, holding out the trash bin for me. I look at it a second as I wait for the upchuck reflexes to kick in. Not feeling any, I say, “Nah, I’m good.”
“Stomach not doing flips?” she asks with a creased brow.
I rub my palm over my stomach to make sure. “Nope, just hungry. Wanna grab some lunch?” I ask, gently placing the glass potion bottle down on top of the coffee table. “I could really go for a roasted corn fiesta bowl from that Hawaiian joint down the street.” The one with pineapple.
“Ah, sure, but can we make it quick? I think Lawson’s waiting on me at the garage,” Josie says before her cheeks redden I assume at some dirty thought.
“Ugh,” I grumble when I round up my hobo purse that matches my long, rust-colored dress and toss in my keys. “You’re already one of those couples, ditching everyone and everything else to be together.”
“No, we’re not!” Josie responds indignantly. “It’s just really new and great and…don’t you have your soulmate to go find?”
A soulmate. So exciting!
“Yeah, you have a date with Mr. Perfect, and I have a date with destiny,” I say with an eye roll, downplaying the cartwheels I’m mentally doing.
“Well, watch out, because that shit is liable to spank you in the ass when you least expect it,” Josie warns.
“Don’t worry,” I assure her when we step out onto the sidewalk and I lock up the apartment door. “I’m ready for anything.”
“Ha! We’ll see about that,” she responds with a snort. “You’re gonna make me walk half a mile in my stilettos, aren’t you?” Josie whines as our shoes clomp down the cement.
“It’s a beautiful day,” I point out. “And it’s only three blocks away. No point in wasting gas.”
“Fine,” she grumbles in agreement.
I don’t take her grumpiness personally. She’s recently found the man of her dreams and fallen madly in love with him. I haven’t met Lawson yet, but he’s apparently “the one” and she would rather spend all of her time with him.
A week ago today, Josie drank the love potion. And as soon as she swallowed a sip, she had to pull her car over and toss her cookies on the side of the road, which resulted in her losing her entire car door. Lawson just so happened to be the mechanic Josie met a few days later; and, as they say, the rest is history. Now it’s my turn, or at least I hope I’m as lucky as she was with finding love so quickly.
Based on what Madam Tess told us, I have one week from today to find my soulmate, sleep with him and get someone else to drink the potion. That shouldn’t be a problem. I’m ready, really I am. Since I’ve been at Madison University, I’ve been focused on getting perfect grades instead of on engaging in hookups. With graduation in sight, I’m ready to take that next step and finally have sex with a man. Not just any man, but the one I’ll spend the rest of my life with.
“So, who’s the next love potion victim?” I ask Josie, thinking about where the small glass bottle will go at the end of the week.
“Ooh, good question,” Josie replies, tapping a finger to her lip as we follow the sidewalk past the university to the Bamboo Grille in one of the campus food courts. Now I’m seriously craving pineapple. So weird.
“I’m guessing Clarissa, Becca or Mallory would give the potion a go,” Josie eventually answers. “Especially if it works for you too.”
“What do you mean ‘if’?” I ask. “It’s gotta work.”
I’m a twenty-four-year-old virgin. Since I figured out what sex is, getting naked with a guy and letting him put his wanker inside me, I’ve been saving myself for the man I’m gonna marry. That’s just too intimate an act to go around