I feel . . . good?

My muscles feel less tense, I catch myself smiling sometimes. The myriad of items on my to-do list feels less arduous when half of my days end with an orgasm or two.

It's almost 11 at night with a few hours of work left to do, but I don't feel as tired as I usually would. Energy aside, the time flies by when you get to go through the torture of law school with your best friend.

Under the old, pointed arches of the law library's ceiling, occasional laughter echoes through the designated no talking area. Ryan and I have one of the study tables to ourselves next to other tired students pouring over case studies, all of us preparing for our mock trial.

We're not worried. It's straightforward and we're great at filling in the gaps in each other's knowledge, no matter how large or small they may be. It's one of the joys of being friends for over a decade.

"I cannot believe I'm getting married in a couple of months," Ryan breaks the silence. His bright smile makes it hard to tell how long he has been thinking about it. He's a lovesick little douche.

"I can," I grumble.

"Oh, right. This is crunch time for you, huh?"

Somehow, I got wrangled in his wedding planning. He hasn't said it, but out of everyone in our group, he knew I would be the only one detail-oriented and trustworthy enough not to ruin his big day. With Mary's only sibling being a brother, they went with the modern arrangement of a Man of Honor and Best Ma'am. As demanding as it has been, I can acknowledge that it's an honor or whatever.

"As if planning two parties isn't hard enough, wrangling the guys is a nightmare. I've reminded Ritchie six times that he needs to get his measurements," I complain.

Ryan laughs at my misfortune, his blue eyes squinting. "I'm sorry, but I hope you know I appreciate it. You're the best Best Ma'am ever."

"You're lucky to have me."

He laughs again. "I am." He fiddles with the pen he holds between his fingers. His nervous tic. "I don't know how you manage to do it all."

"It wasn't that bad. There are websites with super helpful checklists and Mary's brother is basically—"

"No," he stops me. "I mean everything. All the time. Only you can balance school, a job, wedding planning, and us five jackasses. You're a freak of nature and I mean that in the best way possible."

I give him a weak smile. People say that to me so often. I'm anal-retentive, yes, obsessed with detail and control, but it isn't easy for me. I feel like I'm always five minutes away from a breakdown, not that anyone notices. Or cares.

"Well, thanks, but in all honesty, if you were marrying anyone but her, I would have told you to go fuck yourself."

"Really?"

"One hundred percent." Before college, Ryan was like the rest of the guys. Not as preppy as Brett, but not as self-destructive as Ritchie. He was the dark-haired, light-eyed love interest of every high school rom-com. The Bad Boy who turns into the Nice Guy after he meets The Girl. "Do you remember how much of an asshole you were in high school?"

"I do not."

"Lucky you," I tease. He acknowledges me with a smile. "She brings out the best in you. I think you bring out the best in each other."

He looks down at his book, a smitten grin pulling at his lips. "Yeah?"

Over his shoulder, I spot a curvy woman approaching, her black hair wrapped into her signature loose top bun. "Speak of the devil."

Mary walks over holding a tray of Starbucks cups. Her sweatpants show she's come from her own long day of studying. "Hey, baby," she leans down and kisses his cheek. "I brought you two some coffee."

"You're the best, babe."

She hands him his cup and then extends another to me. "Here you go, Teags. Double espresso with almond milk, right?"

"How did you know?" I look at Ryan, "You don't deserve her," and back to Mary, "he doesn't deserve you."

"Oh, that's not true," she coos, running a hand over his disheveled hair.

"You're settling, Mary," I say.

She giggles. It's a cute little sound. "Good luck, guys. I'll see you later tonight?"

"Maybe tomorrow morning?" Ryan asks permission with a grimace.

She forgives him with a knowing smile. "Just say hi whenever you get home."

"Okay."

They kiss and I want to roll my eyes. "Ew, ew, gross, stop," I tease them. Mary giggles again and walks away. "Your love is disgusting."

"Oh, stop. You act like you don't want to be in a relationship."

"Why would I possibly want that?"

"Love? Support? The companionship? You don't get lonely when you spend all your time here and then go home to an empty bed?"

"Who says my bed is empty?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Ooh. You have a new squeeze?"

He's not new. "Something like that."

"Who?"

"A human who showers regularly, which is basically where I set my bar these days."

"When do I get to meet them?"

I laugh for reasons he doesn't need to know. "Never."

His jaw drops as if he's shocked. "Why not?"

"Okay, so what you're doing right now is being in my business and—"

"Come on, Teags. Can't you let someone be happy for you?"

"Happy I'm getting laid? Ry." I sigh, knowing he means well, but the second he finds out I'm with Heath, the floodgates will burst open, and everyone and their mother will live in my business full-time, rent-free. "He's nobody."

"Another guy? Lenny didn't burn you out on men?" 

"Oh, he did, but I'm not looking to be someone's fiancé by the end of the summer," I joke, gaining a chuckle from him. "It's going to be a long three months. All I want is regular dick appointments so I can get through all the summer events without getting dry spell rage. It's not that deep."

He laughs. "That's gonna end poorly."

"It's not. We have a sex schedule, that's it. If it ends, it's like canceling a Hulu subscription. Trust me, I know what I'm doing." I look at him for a response, but all he does is hum a sarcastic agreement. "You're rude."

"And you're naïve."

We exchange smiles and get back to reading. Ryan is wrong. It's as simple as that.

. . .

It's two in the morning when I finally make it home. Jeremy left a note on the refrigerator like a Boomer saying he'll be at Chet's tonight. A shame he didn't think to text me like a normal person. Thursdays might not be in our schedule, but I still would have appreciated the chance to get it in after a long day.

Climbing into my bed with my clothes on, I flop onto my pillow and stare through my window. I'm exhausted but my body is still stirring with a mix of caffeine and my all-nighter second wind. I pull my phone from my pocket and stare at my last message to Heath, contemplating sending him another. But, that's not allowed. 

Ryan's words creep through my head. Am I lonely? Is it really sex that I want, or is it companionship and a warm body next to me?

Sex for sure.

I reach into my nightstand and pull out my vibrator. 

_____

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