Heteroflexibility Read Online Free PDF

me.”
    Fern sorted through the box, her honey-toned body not showing a bulge anywhere, totally the opposite of me, with my skinny arms and legs and a pooch belly, topped by a face only a bulldog could love. But Fern. That girl inspired stalking at epidemic levels. If she’d ever had a relationship last more than five minutes, I might have been jealous.
    “I guess they forgot to use these.” She held up a string of florescent orange condoms.
    Not funny. I turned away to sweep all the CDs off the bookshelves. Mine, his, and ours. He’d have to start his collection over. I could resell these if I got desperate.
    She dropped the condoms back into the box. “You going to be okay?”
    “No, actually, I’m pretty screwed. I don’t even have a studio.”
    “Well, I have good news for you. We’re going to get you that wedding gig back.”
    “The one with the lesbians?”
    “Oh yes.”
    “But they weren’t even sure they were going to go.”
    She dug through the toy box again. “Well, they are. And I want you to meet the rest of the girls. They’ll love you, you’ll be hired, and everything will be okay again.”
    I stared at a Blondie album cover, not sure why Fern was so bent on helping me. We were friends, of course, but mainly as Sisters in Whine, more likely to share a text message than a night out.  She was a hottie trust-funded assistant in the movie industry, and I was, well, a wreck. “When are we going?”
    “Tonight. Meet me at my place at six.”
    “I’ll be there.” I swiped at the dust hidden behind the row of CDs. Housekeeping, not my strength.
    Fern scooted over closer to me. “Will you be okay for a while once they pay for the wedding? Enough to get a place?”
    “Yeah. I’ll be all right. As long as you’re okay with a houseguest for a few days until then. I’ve got to get out of here.”
    She sorted through the teensy purse attached to her belt and tugged out a spare key. “As long as you don’t scare the boys away.”
    I took the key and stuck it in my pocket. “Just warn me when they’re coming.”
    “That’s the problem, they’re always coming without warning.” She reached into the sex-toy box and retrieved a pink rabbit vibrator. “You’re better off with one of these.”

 
    Chapter 7: Get Your Game Face On
     I took the stairs two at a time up to Fern’s fourth-floor condo. Time to ditch the pot belly if I was going to date again. Blech.
    I paused, huffing, outside her door. A mirror in the hallway confirmed my hair had gone wild again. I smashed it down and rang her buzzer. I didn’t think I should use the key until I was officially moved in.
    Fern threw open the door, and I staggered back when I saw her outfit.  “Are you really wearing that?”
    The getup was straight from A League of Their Own . Short pleated skirt, matching crew-neck top, ball cap, and even bobby socks. All the color of a petunia. “Did you forget your pink pom pons?”
    Fern arranged her face into a pout. God, that girl could put it on. “You never like my couture .” She headed to her bedroom.
    I followed her. “It’s just a little…unexpected. Where are we meeting them exactly?”
    Fern faced the mirrored wall behind her bed, adjusting her ponytails beneath the cap. “Their softball game.”
    “Oh. That’ll be interesting.” I twisted my own hair self-consciously as she perfected hers. “So what’s your connection with these women?”
     “I know a few of them.”
    “Which ones?”
    She turned around, hand on her hip. “Just Aud, really. The others I only met a time or two.”
    “How do you know her?”
    She sat on the bed in a huff. “What’s with the third degree? I know tons of people in this town.”
    “It’s just strange how you’re going so out of the way for me.”
    She pressed down on my hair, then giggled when it flew back up. “Stop worrying.”
    I stepped away. “Stop worrying! These women will eat me alive. I barely made it through the first