Every month, when my pesky Aunt Flo makes her five-day visit, I’m always guaranteed to be found in the exact same place—on the couch with a bottle of ibuprofen and a bag of peanut M&Ms nestled in my lap. And this month is no different. My cramps have been extra bad this cycle, but there’s not a whole lot that chocolate and painkillers can’t solve, as far as I’m concerned.
As I flip through my options as to which show I’ll be spending the evening binge watching, my phone buzzes on the coffee table. It’s Owen. And although I can’t read his text from this distance, I’m almost positive that he’s asking about my plans this evening. The guys won their game tonight, which no doubt means they’ll be out celebrating. But one look at me, and anyone could see that I’m not exactly up for a night on th
