“I knew it,” she says. I groan and drop my head in my hands. After the night I just had, I’m spinning and need a soft place to land. I don’t know if I can handle all this glee. She laughs—laughs—then says, “I know this wasn’t part of your life plan, but try not to freak out too badly.” “I’m not freaking out.” “Uh-huh.” “But I do need to get ready for work,” I say, scowling. “Don’t you have someplace to be?” “Yeah,” she says, but she doesn’t move and she’s still smiling at me. “For god’s sake, what?” “Don’t I get any details?” “You want details? Are you crazy?” “Well, I don’t need you to tell me if he’s hung or anything.” “Ashley!” “Because we already know he is.”
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