Free Girls We Love by J. Minter

and that maybe if he found her there, he would think that she wasn’t taking the whole “take it slow” thing seriously. She grabbed her Evian and hurried to the other kitchen door—the one that led straight into the hall.
    She was looking behind her as she reached for the door and stepped out of the kitchen, just to make sure that Patch wasn’t coming to see what the noise had been, and that’s when she ran right into him.
    Liv stood there in the hall, her face pressed into a chest that was so strong, and good smelling—a little bit clean, a little bit dirty—that it could only have belonged to Patch. After all, only someone as superhumanly hot as Patch could have gotten from the living room to the hall that quickly. For a moment, they both stood still, savoring the moment. She kept her eyes closed, and decided to feel him out the way blind people do, with her hands. First she felt his shoulders, and then his chin, and then she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him.
    It was like little darts of pure ecstasy were hitting her all over. She wanted to look into his eyes immediately, but she tried to resist.
    Slowly, slowly she pulled her lips away and opened her eyes, and when she did, she realized she’d made a mistake.
    â€œUm, this isn’t right,” David said, pulling away from her.
    â€œI
know
,” Liv wailed, trying to keep her voice down. Patch was still out there in the living room and, of course, David’s girlfriend, who was also Liv’s style icon, was only two flights up. “How could you?” she said.
    â€œI didn’t mean… ” David stammered.
    â€œNever mind,” Liv said, and without taking another look at David she went huffing up the stairs, and back to Flan’s bedroom, where, luckily, there were no boys allowed tonight.

for liesel reid, work and social life are like the same thing
    â€œHotel Gansevoort,” Liesel said, sliding into the cab and nearly dumping the contents of her mandarin Via Spiga tote all over the backseat. “You should take Hudson.”
    As soon as the cab pulled away from the corner of Mercer and Broome, where DeeDee Rakoff’s public relations firm was located, Liesel grabbed her cell phone and called her drinks date, Sara-Beth Benny.
    â€œHello, darling! It’s me, Lies,” she said, once SBB had picked up. “I’m on my way and I just wanted to let you know that I’m running about fifteen minutes behind sched—what? You know I basically had to sign over my trust fund to get a reservation at the Hotel Gansevoort… I understand … Gotcha, gotcha… See you in ten… Ciao, ciao.” Liesel snapped her phone shut and dropped it back in her bag. “Change ofplans, we ah going to Cowgirl on the corner of Hudson and West Tenth, okay? You can still take Hudson.”
    Liesel found SBB in the back room of the Cowgirl Hall of Fame, which was decorated with cow skulls and kitsch western paintings and seemed, especially on a warm summer evening, very dark and cavelike. SBB was hiding behind a strawberry frozen margarita in an oversized glass mug, and she was wearing a belted trench over black leggings and white flats. When she saw Liesel, she pushed her wig back to get a better look. “Baby!”
    Liesel kissed her on either cheek and then sat down next to her. “This is…
private
, but you know the Hotel Gansevoort has a bar on the roof with fabulous people and delicious dwinks. You could actually get some air, gorgeous.”
    Liesel hoped that didn’t come out all mothering and concerned, which was of course also how she had meant it. She had known SBB since before
Mike’s Princesses
, and she never liked to see her friend hiding in a role. Or big sunglasses.
    â€œI know.” SBB made a pouting/apologetic face. “I’m sorry. I just can’t be photographed, especially not in a bar, and that place is full of gossip people. I’m