Gwen: Hihi. Got your number from Tabby. Just checking in. I’m headed back. How was Clyde when you left for bowling?

    Bash: Sometimes I regret giving him my kidney.hr

    IN THE DARKENED BACK SEAT OF OUR CAB, I SMILE DOWN AT my illuminated screen because I know he doesn’t mean it. He’s just being surly. Going out for dinner with Tabitha, Rosie, and Skr was fun, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t worry about Clyde while I was out. Checking in feels good. The fact that Bash wrote back feels good too. So I text again.

    Gwen: No you don’t.

    Bash: His new lease on life is a lot more gross than I anticipated. He shares too much. Did you know there are dating apps for people who want to prepare for zombie apocalypses? Because he told me all about them.

    Gwen: I think it’s sweet. He’ll need someone like-minded to pass the time in that bunker.

    Bash: I don’t want to be in his bunker then.

    Gwen: You cane get eaten by a zombie with me.

    Bash: What?

    Gwen: In all those zombie movies and shows, I will never understand those people’s obsession with staying alive. For what? Living in a zombie world where everything sucks and all is lost? No, sir. Not for me. Peace out, bitches. It’s been a slice. On to the next.

    Bash: Zombies aren’t real.

    Gwen: Well, you’re the one who keeps bringing them up.

    “What’s the deal with you and Bash?”

    Tabitha is leaning across the center seat, staring at my screen, and I didn’t even notice. I go still now, flipping my phone over in myp and peeking out the cab’s windshield.

    Bash’s ce is just a little farther beyond hers, so we split the ride. We’ve had a fun night. I needed it after the intensity of Clyde’s post-op care. And after sharing two bottles of wine with the girls, my brain is just a little too foggy to properly respond to such a direct question.

    “What do you mean?”

    “I mean that you’re sitting here texting him with a creepy smile on your face. And Rhys told me that you”—she drops her voice and leans toward me with a dramatic whisper—“dated his son.”

    My heart rate elerates like it always does when this topices up. I feel guilty over Tripp, even though I had no way of knowing. If I could go back in time and un-date him, I would.

    “Yeah. But it’s…plicated.”

    Almost asplicated as dodging Bash every day in his house. Trying to keep away because he asked me to.

    “Pfffffft.” Tabitha blows a drunken raspberry as she flops back in her seat. “Complicated is just an excuse. Ask me how I know. Rhys and I wereplicated once.”

    My lips press together. She and Rhys are a different story. They were made for each other, where Bash and I were apparently made to torture each other.

    “You know what’splicated?” Tabby’s head rolls toward me. “Life. Life isplicated. And short. Gwen, life is too damn short not to wade through all theplications. And you guys are too hot not to bang. I’ve seen the fuck-me eyes you give each other.”

    I bark out augh. “Tabitha. You’ve had too much wine.”

    The tiny woman just waves me off. “You heard me. If you’re allowed to tease Rhys and me about chakras, then we get to talk about Bash. He needs chakra 911. The only cure is doing naked yoga with the hot teacher.”

    I slump back and throw an arm over my eyes to hide from the embarrassing conversation. Sex doesn’t make me ufortable—but the thought of everyone around us knowing our sordid history does. “Bash wants to settle down,” I counter. “I’m not the right person for that.”

    And it’s partially true. Bash does want to settle down. He straight-out told me as much.

    “Why not? You act like he’s looking for a woman to keep pregnant and barefoot in the kitchen or something.”

    “Rose Hill is a temporary stop. I like moving around. I like to travel. There’s a lot I want to see and do still. I can’t be tied down—it stresses me out. I watched my mom do it. It’s not for me.”

    What I don’t tell her is that this morning I received a job offer that would take me to Costa Rica teaching yoga at a resort for the winter. It’s the perfectbination of travel and professional development. It’s an escape from Canadian winters.

    It’s an escape from Bash.

    And yet, I didn’t instantaneously ept the position.

    “You can’t leave. You love it here. Our trivia team would be fucked without you. And I’d miss your big titties.” Her gaze drops to my chest, where my breasts are indeed pressed against my thin ck sweater. She sighs wistfully. “You sure there’s no way to share just a little of all that with me?”

    Iugh. “My titties and I will miss you too. I’ll definitely have toe back and visit.”

    Tabby shrugs. “Why do you have to be tied down? I tend to think the right person would be happy to go on those adventures with you. Or not. Rhys and I do lots of things on our own. Having a partner doesn’t mean being tied down.”

    My head wobbles, but I don’t respond. I don’t know what to say to that. I’ve never seen that kind of rtionship in action. My mom was always rushing to get dinner on the table before my dad walked through the door. Packing his lunch in the morning. Pressing his clothes for him like she was a maid and not a partner.

    If I tiptoed around him, she catered to him. No savings, no education, no job experience.

    No way out if she even wanted it.

    Yeah, no. I won’t let that be me.

    When we pull up in front of Tabby’s craftsman house in the center of town, she pats my leg. “The world is your oyster, Gwen. But eating oysters with someone else is the best. Do you know why?”

    “Why?”

    “Because they make you horny.” Tabby winks at me over her shoulder as she flicks the door open. The cabdriver just sighs, and I can’t help but wonder what he must think of us.

    She gets out of the car but bends at the waist, popping her head back inside. “Gwen, I just want you to know that if I were you, I’d fuck my ex-boyfriend’s dad, and I wouldn’t even feel bad about it because that other guy sounds like a fucking loser.”

    A choked sound filters from the front seat, and my cheeks go hot.

    “Anyway, bye!” Tabitha calls as she ms the door on me. The driver pulls away slowly, but not before I see my friend approach her front porch. The one where her husband sits on the steps waiting for her.

    He greets her with open arms, and she moves in to straddle hisp before dropping her mouth to his.

    It’s sweet. But more than that, it’s… appealing. I bet they’d want to stay alive in a zombie apocalypse just so they could have more time together.

    It makes me wonder if maybe, just maybe, I could findfort in a partnership like that. In a ce like this.

    If I was ever inspired to try… it might be now.