Both of them narrowed their eyes at him.
“What do you mean?” Perdie asked.
“Talking about what?” Lucille asked.
Noah’s eyebrows knitted together as if he were trying to explain quantum physics to toddlers. “Like...regular talking. Asking, answering. Exchanging information to make educated hypotheses about the other person and your potential compatibility?”
Silence.
Lucille tilted her head. “Why do I need to talk to some guy when I have Perdie to talk to? That’s not what I need a man for. I need a man to have four kids with.”
“Well technically you don’t need a man for that, just the relevant genetic material.” Noah rubbed his chin, regarding Lucille thoughtfully.
Perdie threw her hands up. “Right? Lucille, I told you I’d happily raise four children with you.”
“Perdie, it’s nice that you say that, but you don’t mean it. You don’t want kids. If you did, we’d already have two by now.”
Perdie conceded with a nod. “Fine. It’s true. I’ll make an amazing earth-goddess mother though.”
Lucille patted her hands. “Not if you keep shit-talking Hampton, you won’t.”
Perdie snatched her hands away, eyes wide. “Cunt,” she whispered. Then the two broke out into laughter. “Noah, give us more words of wisdom please.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say I have words of wis—”
“Just do it, Noah. Don’t be a little bitch.” Lucille collected three tequila shots from a server, and placed one in front of each of them. “Bottoms up, y’all.”
The shot glasses hit the table with a collective thud. Perdie tensed her face to stop from gagging, but Noah had almost no reaction.
He cleared his throat. “Uh, fine. Perdie, I think sometimes emotional things manifest themselves in physical ways which is why you might be having some...you know, problems right now.”
Perdie shoulders tensed. “Oh, so you heard all that before?”
“I may have. But the sentiment stands.”
She tapped the tip of her nose. “What are you, some kind of guru?”
He shrugged. “I’ve done a lot of therapy. My upbringing was unusual. I could refer you to someone?”
Lucille pointed her finger to Perdie. “Burn.”
“I could refer you to someone as well.” Noah gave her a deliberate look.
“Oh, we got a live one.” Perdie chuckled.
A small smile played on Noah’s serious face. “I understand there is still a stigma against therapy. Especially in the South, but I have found it has profoundly improved my life.”
“I don’t need therapy.” Lucille’s voice slurred slightly. “I’m doing great. I’m doing fine. I’m doing—oh.” Her phone lit up on the table, and she snatched it.
Perdie rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her margarita. “Hampton?”
Lucille looked up through dark lashes. “Hate to bail on our first date.”
Perdie nodded. “But you love to fuck a douchebag.”
“My destiny calls.” Lucille popped out of her seat, collecting her bag. “Sorry, Noah. I had fun. Love the curls.”
She leaned over and kissed Perdie on the cheek and sauntered away. “I’m taking Bananas with me, byeee,” she called back before Perdie could protest.
To Noah’s credit, he smiled and waved. “Well, she’s nice.”
Perdie sighed as Lucille’s petite form disappeared through the exit. “She’s perfect, and I love the little weirdo.”
For a moment, Perdie fixed her gaze on Noah. She was a little tipsy, enough to feel the warm hug of tequila wrap around her insides, and she was feeling generous. Noah was actually quite handsome. His eyes were dark brown and framed with enviable thick black lashes. His jaw was strong and dusted with a hint of stubble. And his soft, deep brown ringlets somehow perfectly framed his face. Lucille wasn’t telling stories out of school. Perdie almost never grew attached to men. And if she did, she often forgot them when the next guy came rolling around. Maybe a little romp with Noah was exactly the kind of palate cleanser she needed.
She crossed her legs, leaning back in the chair. “So, you wanna go back to your place?”
Perhaps it seemed abrupt after the whirlwind three-person date, and it would be unbelievable to think he’d accept after what she’d said about Carter, but if Perdie knew anything about men...
Surprise only flickered in his eyes for a moment before he tossed his napkin on the table and slapped his hands on his thighs. “Yep.”
A famous Swedish designer had decorated Noah’s home, and the pristine, nearly mansion-sized house didn’t quite fit in with the sprawling magnolias dripping in Spanish moss that lined the streets. But Noah didn’t quite fit in with Southerners either.
Inside the minimalist abode, Noah consulted his extensive collection of organized wine.
“Don’t care. Any red’ll do,” Perdie prodded, peering over his shoulder.
Noah nodded and chose a bottle, then poured them each a glass. Without meaning to, Perdie clenched the stem of the expensive glassware. She forced a sip, anything to calm the tense feeling in her shoulders, which she shouldn’t be feeling in the first place. She should be looking forward to a little easy fun. Therefore, she was determined to follow through on this hookup.
