The What If Guy - Lauren Blakely Page 0,53

music truly suffering?

Bryn: Ah, there you go, all philosophical again. I would think so. But then again, I also think true suffering is running out of pinot grigio. So, hold on one hot second.

Carefully, I rise out of the tub, reaching for the open bottle on the floor. I pour another cup, take a drink, and set it down. The wine is making me warm and happy, and I like it. I sink into the water again and return to the text. Maybe this is all I wanted tonight, just to hear from him, because texting is easier than thinking. Or maybe texting is helping me think, is taking my hand and leading me to the answer.

Bryn: I’m back. I’ve been double fisting. Mug in one hand, phone in the other. But I needed a refill . . .

Logan: Double fisting, Bryn? Sounds like this conversation just went to a new level.

Bryn: Oops. :) I’ll try being appropriate again. It’s just hard when you’re rocking out to Heartbreakers in the bubble bath on a Friday night with your third mug of wine.

Logan: Is this what you do every Friday night? A bubble bath wine tasting?

Bryn: Yes. And if you’d come around last week, perhaps you could have enjoyed this too.

I stare at the text I just fired off. Whoa. I did that. Maybe Amy was right. Maybe all the bath bombs are going to my head, making decisions for me. Making my choices.

Logan: *dies* It was sushi plus bubble bath and wine? Now I am triple devastated that our second date was canceled.

Bryn: Try quadruple. There was going to be sex.

And evidently I’m not contemplating too much anymore. I seem to be sliding right back into a certain zone with him.

Logan: Missing that makes me sixteen times sadder because I’m exponentially more depressed now. (Apologies for texting you. I should be giving you space, but as you can see from the band name, I had NO CHOICE.)

Bryn: I completely understand. Also, I was going to text you anyway to show you Bruce’s latest action shots—the other night, he swatted a mug. Tonight, he played with bubbles in the tub. Also, I’m glad you wrote to me, and I only partially blame the wine for me writing back.

Logan: Should we blame the wine marketers partially too?

Bryn: Actually, they deserve all the praise and all the blame for my state of mind tonight.

Logan: Since we’re praising and blaming, I’d like to be fully apprised on what they’re responsible for. Might as well set the scene, Bryn. They say a picture is worth a thousand words . . .

Feeling frisky, feeling risky, I snap a picture of my toes wiggling above the water. I send it to him.

Logan: You have purple toenails. That’s hot, and I don’t even know why. Why is that sexy?

Bryn: You tell me . . .

Logan: I don’t have a toe fetish, but purple on your toes is damn sexy. Hmm. Now that I ponder this, I’m sure they’d be sexy painted green. Or orange. Or pink. Or bare.

Bryn: Whoa. I got the unpainted toes seal of approval. I’ve never been happier.

Logan: Where is the emoticon for sticking my tongue out?

Bryn: Bet you can find it. Keep looking.

Logan: You are on fire tonight.

Bryn: Baths and wine and music have been known to have that effect on me.

Logan: You’re a woman who knows how to feel good. Who knows what she wants. Who knows and deserves her own pleasure.

Bryn: Be good to yourself is one of my life mottos. Though, credit given—it came from my mom. She was the queen of sayings. She wrote a ton down on postcards for me as we traveled. That’s actually what I wanted the lunch box for. Silly, I know. But that’s the truth.

Logan: That is not remotely silly. It is incredibly heartwarming and real. Did you put the postcards in the lunch box?

Bryn: I did. It makes me happy. Just a little way to remember her.

Logan: There is nothing little about remembering the ones we love. Do you have a favorite saying of hers?

Bryn: My second favorite is this: Life is short. Eat the chocolate, wear the dress, take the trip.

Logan: Chocolate is always a good idea.

Bryn: But my top one is: Don’t fall for someone who’s a shitty ex to someone he’s dated before.

Logan: Ah, that’s interesting. Was your ex a shitty ex?

Bryn: He was one of those guys who described his exes as, “But she was crazy. No, I mean it.