“So, what does this mean?” Kate asked, moving onto the more substantive questions. “Are you going to see Scott again?”Taylor paused. “Yes. This Saturday.”
Jason glanced over sharply. “You didn't tell me that.”
Taylor shrugged. “You didn't ask.”
Valerie turned toward Jason, leaning tipsily over the arm of the couch. “See, women know how to ask the right questions,” she explained.
“I see that,” Jason said. “Please continue. I'd like to know what else I've missed about this date.”
Kate appeared uncertain. “Maybe we should finish this later.”
Jason waved her on, encouraging. “No, really—keep going. Pretend I'm not here. What would you ladies normally cover next? What kind of shoes he was wearing? What type of dressing they had with their salads?” Scoffing, he took a macho sip of his drink, all haughty man-like.
Kate shrugged matter-of-factly. “Actually, I'd ask if he was good in bed.”
Jason choked on his drink. He leapt out of his chair and pointed at Taylor. “Well, I certainly hope you don't know the answer to that!”
She stared at him. “Why? How many first dates have you had sex on?”
Jason sat back down. Shutting up now.
“Exactly,” Taylor sassed him. “So don't act so appalled. You men ask the same questions.”
Jason snickered at this. “No, generally, men start with whether she has big . . .” He trailed off, considering his audience. “. . . whether she's well-endowed,” he rephrased politely.
Kate shrugged, happy to play along. “Fine. Is Scott Casey well-endowed?”
Jason gasped and pointed at Taylor again. “Not one word.”
Taylor studied him carefully. This was an interesting development. If there was indeed some game being played between her and Jason—which of course there was not—then she would have to say that Team Donovan had just scored another point.
She got up from the couch and began picking up the group's empty glasses. “Is there a problem, Jason?” she asked casually. “I thought you said you weren't jealous of Scott Casey.”
In response, Jason grabbed some glasses and followed her into the kitchen. “It's not jealousy,” he said. “I'm just trying to rush us through the girl talk so we can move on to the pillow fight or whatever other activities you ladies have planned for your sleepover.”
They passed by Jeremy, who was coming in from outside, having finished his cigarette.
“Because we don't have to talk about my date, if it bothers you.” Taylor began stacking glasses in the dishwasher.
Jason laughed this off. “Go ahead, talk all you want. I don't care.”
She looked at him, trying to decide if he was telling the truth.
Jason looked at her earnestly. “Really, keep going. I think maybe you were about to tell us whether you slept with Scott Casey.”
Taylor was about to answer when, out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of—
Kate, Val, and Jeremy.
The three of them sat in a row, wide-eyed, staring over the back of the couch at her and Jason. Mesmerized by the scene. Val had gotten hold of some M&M's from the dish on the coffee table and was chewing them distractedly, as if watching a movie.
Taylor cleared her throat. Ahem . . .
Kate and Jeremy blinked and jumped off the couch, realizing they were busted.
“Oh, wow, look at the time,” Jeremy said in a rush. “You know, Jason, I really think it's time for us to get going.”
Kate grabbed Valerie by the wrist, thinking along the same lines. “Come on, Val. It's time to crash—there's a lot we want to do tomorrow.” She pulled her reluctant friend off the couch and led her down the hallway. Valerie dragged her feet the whole way. “But Katherine, this shit is better than Grey's Anatomy . . .” she whispered loudly.
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