“She and Conall have been up to shenanigans,” Angie tossed in.

“You fucked him?”

“No. She hasn’t.”

“Oooh. This is getting better and better.”

Miki rubbed her forehead. “I hate both of you.”

“You might as well tell us,” Angie pushed.

“Or I can ask Conall. He has to tell me. I’m like totally in charge and everything.”

Miki rolled her eyes. Sara’s reign of terror. Bonehead. “Okay. Okay. We’ve gotten pretty…involved with each other. But we haven’t actually done the deed.”

“That was vague,” Sara muttered.

“I’ll put it in Sara-speak for ya, hon. He’s either used his hand or his tongue to get her off, but no dicks have made an appearance.”

How could she still be friends with these two idiots?

“Yum,” Sara growled. “So what’s the problem? It’s time for you to cowboy up and break in that mustang.”

“I can’t believe you found a way to work ‘cowboy up’ into this conversation.”

Angelina sighed. “See you need to go into this knowing what it is, Mik.”

“Which is?”

“A booty call. The extended DVD version, but a booty call nonetheless.”

“But what if—”

“No, Miki. No analyzing. No second-guessing. No obsessing.”

“For once in your life just enjoy yourself,” Sara practically begged.

Miki sighed. “To be honest, I don’t think I know how to do that.”

Sara chuckled. “Bartender-Miki knows how.”

“Bartender-Miki? Is this like your Golden Retriever Sara vs. Drunk-Sara theory?”

“No. You, smartass,” Sara growled.

“Bartender-Miki,” Angie began, “is the one who always asks inappropriate questions and says whatever she thinks without caring about the repercussions.”

“Bartender-Miki who used to set things on fire in Chem Lab because she was bored.”

“Who taught herself Elvish and Klingon.”

“Who faced off against my grandmother on more than one occasion.”

“Who could kick guys ten times her size out of the bar when they got rowdy.”

“Bartender-Miki who the FBI still refer to as ‘that bitch’,” Sara stated with obvious pride.

“That’s the Miki we both know and love,” Angie finished.

Miki blushed. Now she remembered why she was still friends with these two idiots. Because they both actually got her. And loved her in spite of it.

“But I was changing everything. I was supposed to be having a nice, normal, respectable life?”

“Normal? Who wants to be normal?” Sara asked in complete confusion.

“Fuck normal.”

“I say fuck Conall. But in agood way.”

Miki chuckled. “Would you two idiots focus.”

“All right, Miki. Listen up.” This from Angie. “Is Conall around somewhere?”

“Yeah. He’s in the other room.”

“Can you see him from where you are?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Okay. Do me a favor. Look at Conall. But don’t look at him like Miki who wants to have a respectable life—”

“We’ll call her boring Miki.” Sara chimed in.

“Instead look at him like Bartender-Miki.”

“Okay.” Miki thought about her nights bartending. Always in control, she never took any shit. She ruled Skelly’s bar with a mighty fist and everyone respected her. She knew what she wanted and what she didn’t and she acted accordingly. She felt like she’d knocked that Miki out for the last six months but she was awake now. Awake and looking at Conall like a prize-winning bull at an Austin auction.

Stretched out on the bed, on his stomach, watching TV; the Viking’s big arms wrapped around a pillow. Her eyes dragged across every inch of that long hard body, taking in the muscles of his arms, the line of his body, how friggin’ huge his feet were. And that outstanding ass. Plus, he was wearing that goddamn black bracelet again.

He seemed to feel her watching him. He looked at her and smiled. A smile that, deep down, she knew was for her and her alone. Instead of turning away, like she always did, she smiled back. And his smile actually got bigger. Then he winked and went back to the TV.

Miki sighed. “Holy shit…”

“We’ve been trying to tell ya.” Sara laughed

“What do I do?”

“Be yourself,” Angie insisted.

“Are you two high? That scares off most men.”

“He’s hardly most men, darlin’.”

“How about you do me a favor?” Angelina asked.

Uh-oh. “What?”

“You’ve got, what? A couple of days until you have to do that thing, right?”

Miki crossed her eyes. “You mean my dissertation? Yeah. Just a couple of days until ‘that thing’.”

“Then why don’t you just enjoy yourself?”

“Don’t worry about work,” Sara added.

“Or school.”

“Or bills.”

“We’ve got your back. We’ll take care of everything. Just relax and see what happens.”

It had been years since she could do that. Just relax. In fact, she was pretty sure the last time she did it, she was about fourteen. Before her mother died. Since then she’d never taken any handouts. She’d always worked for everything she had. And she realized it would be nice to have a couple of days where she didn’t have to worry about anything.