"So, since you were gone for like six hours, I'm going to assume the coffee date went well," I say from the armchair as Aubrey locks the door behind her. I have to skip the greeting and beating around the bush, because I've been waiting in the living room for hours and my patience is completely exhausted. I need the deets, and I need them now.
"Who said it was a date?" she asks as she hangs her purse on its designated hook in the entryway.
"The outfit you're wearing," I retort.
Bree crosses to the couch and drops into it, leaning her head back and covering her face with her hands.
"Soooo?" I prompt.
"I still don't know if it was even a date."
"For serious?" She hadn't been sure if it was meant to be a date when Stacie asked her to meet for coffee, but I felt sure that would clear itself up.
"For serious," Bree says. She drops her hands into her lap and clasps them together.
If this chick is fucking with my friend, I will shave her head and burn her favorites shoes, I swear.
"I haven't dated a girl since college, anyway, Chloe, I-"
"You haven't really dated anyone-male or female-since college, Bree. You're always too busy with work. Don't talk yourself out of anything." She sighs and glares at me softly. I almost chuckle; Bree's the only person I know who can glare with affection. It's adorable. "I mean what happened? Surely you weren't gone all day because it was awful?"
"No, it was great," she answers. "We sat in that coffee shop and talked for like five hours. She's smart. Really smart. She's an architect and she's really into her career. And she's funny, and hot, and sweet, and-ugh."
"Ugh, what? That was sounding pretty perfect, Bree."
"It's just that when we first got there, she bought me a coffee and it seemed like she was flirting with me, but then we got to talking and we were just talking, you know? Like she quit flirting, and I kept my hands on the table most of the time but she didn't reach out or anything, and she hugged me goodbye. Just a hug. Not even a kiss on the cheek. I think I blew it."
"You talked for five hours, Bree."
"We had an amazing conversation, yes. But I think that's all it was, and at first I was kind of apprehensive about going out with her at all, you know, I mean I almost said no when she asked. But then when I was driving home just now I was so disappointed because I really like her and she definitely see me as a friend."
"Did she say that?"
"No."
"Maybe she was just being a gentleman," I offer.
She gives me a real glare this time. "Did she strike you as the gentlemanly type?"
"Well-" I don't know what to say, because honestly, she struck me as the sex on a first date type. Not that there's anything wrong with that, which, now that I think about it- "you are, though."
"I am what?"
"You come across as kind of-I don't know-proper. The kind of girl who doesn't give it up on a first date."
"So?"
"So maybe she just didn't want to come on too strong, Bree. Maybe she's trying to feel you out, see if you're into her," I say with a shrug. It's the best I can come up with. I need to call Beca ASAP and wheedle everything she knows out of her little head.
I can't do it in front of Bree, though, because she'd flip her shit.
"I don't know, Chloe."
"OK, let me ask you this: did you make a move?"
"Excuse me?" she asks, her eyebrows raised in a slightly scandalized expression.
"You're kind of reserved with this kind of thing, Bree. Which I've always found to be odd, because you are super confident and forward in like every other way," I explain. "What if you gave her the impression you weren't interested?"
"See? I fucked it up," she groans, dropping her head onto the back of the couch and pressing her hands into her face again. "You know what, maybe it's for the best. I mean I'm so busy at work anyway, I don't really have time for-"
I'm off the chair and in her lap before she can finish, and I can't help but take a fraction of a second to enjoy the astonished and somewhat panicked look she's wearing when I seize her wrists and yank her hands away from her face.
"Don't you dare, Aubrey Posen," I say as she begins to struggle. I lean forward a little so I can pin her wrists to her shoulders and stare into her face. "Hold still." She stops struggling, but she turns her head to the side. God, she's infuriating. "And for shit's sake, look at me."
She faces me again, wearing her irritated pouty face, and says, "You are a terrifying child."
"I am your best friend," I counter. "And you are incredible and smart and beautiful and fierce and loyal and successful and fun, and so much more. Stacie would have to be a goddamn fool to not be interested in you, and I could tell you were into her the second you met her and practically leapt into the chair she offered you."
"But-"
I cut her off because I have zero interest in hearing whatever self-deprecating, defeatist bullshit she's about to spit out. "No buts. Nothing is ruined. You had a lovely afternoon where you learned the two of you can talk for hours-which is important, by the way-and her lack of an attempt to jump your bones is not indicative of a lack of interest. If anything,I think it's a sign of respect. Now, when are you seeing her again?"
"I don't know," she sighs.
"You don't know? Did you ask her to hang out again?"
"No."
"Oh my god, Bree, I love you but you are fucking impossible," I say, utterly exasperated as I climb out of her lap and head for the entryway. It's like she doesn't even know how to flirt. I bet poor Stacie thinks she's been friend-zoned. "Is your phone in your purse?"
"Chloe Beale, don't you dare!" she roars, and I giggle as I quicken my strides because I feel pretty sure she's leapt up to chase me down like an animal.
I manage to get into her purse and wrap my fingers around her phone before she's on me, hooking an arm around my neck and reaching for the phone as I wave it around in a very un-adult game of keep away.
"I'm just going to send her a text!"
"You most certainly are not," Bree declares.
"But someone has to tell her you want in her pants and I don't think you're going to do it."
"Give me the goddamn phone," she growls.
"Promise to text her if I do?"
"What are we, fucking twelve?"
"Promise!"
"Come on, Chloe!"
She shoves me against the door as we struggle and I manage to pin the phone between it and my left boob where she can't get to it without touching something she's way too prudish to touch. I'm laughing uncontrollably at this point, and she's huffing frustratedly in my ear.
"Let me go and I will help you compose an appropriate text," I suggest.
"I am an adult, I do not need you to help me text," Bree says as she releases me. She flicks my ear as she pulls away.
"OW, bitch!" I squeal, but her only response is to raise her middle finger in my general direction. "That's no way to thank me for helping you with your love life."
Bree plants herself on the couch again and leans her shoulder against mine once I've settled in beside her.
"OK, then," she says. "How exactly are you planning to help me?"
"By doing what you're too much of a wuss to do," I say happily as I unlock her phone.
"Since when do you know my password?"
"Since forever, silly," I manage between giggles. The very idea I might not be able to break into my bestie's phone is ludicrous. "So, what am I working with here? You want to see her again, right?"
"Well, yes. I do."
"And I'm assuming you're against sending a sexy pic."
"Yes, of course! What the hell, Chloe?" she sputters, her face the very picture of shocked horror.
"Just checking." I really think Stacie would appreciate such a thing, but whatever. "What about a little innuendo-"
"Oh my god, Chloe, don't be ridiculous."
"Fine," I say with a sigh, typing away with both thumbs. "Something simple, no naughtiness. Boring, but whatever. How about this: 'I had a really nice time this afternoon. What do you say to dinner sometime this week?'"
Bree looks it over with her bottom lip between her teeth. "Lose the emojis," she says.
"Really?"
"Yes, really."
"OK but, other than that, you approve?"
"Yes," she says. "Yes, that's fine."
"Sweet." I delete the emojis and press send before she can change her mind. She gets a reply almost immediately and flinches when I try to hand her the phone, tucking her fists under her chin and actually leaning away from the thing. "Oh my god, you are freaking out, Bree. Scale of one to ten, how into her are you?"
"Eleven," she admits without hesitation. "Maybe eleven and a half." She's staring at the phone, still making no move toward taking it from me. When she raises her eyes to mine, they look uncertain. "Read it for me?"
"Of course, sweetie," I say, patting her knee with my free hand. She smiles weakly as she watches me open the text. I think she's holding her breath. "'I had the best time today and I would love to have dinner with you ASAP.' Oooh wait, another one just came in. 'How about I pick you up Tuesday at 7?' That definitely sounds like a date!"
"Give me the phone," Bree demands.
I hand it over. "You're going to say yes, right?"
"Duh."
"Make sure you say you're looking forward to it. And you should add a smiley face at the end," I recommend. She shoots me a look from the corner of her eye. "Seriously, texting lacks emotion. You can't use voice inflection. The smiley makes up for it."
"You may have a point," she says, tapping away. "OK, there. Sent."
"I'm so proud of you!" I wrap her up in a tight hug, which she returns until her phone chimes and she promptly shoves me off. I take no offense. "What'd she say?"
Bree's smile is so wide I'm not sure how she speaks through it to say, "She says she can't wait. With a winky face."
"See? The emoji makes it better."
A/N - Really don't have much to say except to repeat that I appreciate the reading and following and reviewing. And that if there's something you'd like to see in this story, feel free to drop me a line. Not saying I'll take all requests, but I will consider them. The point of this is, after all, to entertain you.