“Giving the vibe and wanting it are two different things,” I tell him.

“Oh, do I know that. But I’m just saying…be prepared to be hit on a lot.”

“Pshhh,” I dismiss him. “If I can handle you hitting on me, I can handle them.”

He smiles softly. “I suppose you’re right about that.”

After I show him how to give Ava her insulin shot – God forbid he needs to use it – I leave the two of them and go downstairs where Steph and Kayla are waiting in an Uber. The last vision I have of them is Bram standing by the door and Ava bouncing up and down on the couch in the background. If the couch breaks tonight, it looks like I’ll be spending my Monday morning in the IKEA assembly line.

“Nicola,” Steph says as I squeeze into the backseat of a Prius. “You look fucking hot.”

“Yup,” Kayla says, leaning forward to look at me. “Props.” She gives me the thumbs up.

They don’t look too shabby either, dressing in tight jeans and slinky shirts and ankle-breaker heels. Steph’s, I notice, are authentic Rodarte, which makes me hella jealous for a moment.

“I am so glad you decided to do this,” Kayla says later as we approach the first bar, Bartlett Hall just outside of Union Square. “I’ve needed girl time. I say we make up fake names and fake jobs for ourselves. I’ll be Lorraine Moneypenny, a circus trainer for the pigeons that perform during Cirque du Soleil. The ones in the rafters during the shows. Then we’ll ask guys for dick pics. You know, just approach random guys and ask for them, see who wants to play.” She pauses mid-scheme, adding a saucy smile. “Did I ever tell you, that you two are the best wingwomen a girl could hope for?”

“Oh, hold up,” Steph says, putting her hand on Kayla. “Tonight is about Nicola, not you. And I know my bestie. If she says she needs a girls night out, she really needs a girls’ night out. Hot mama needs to get laid. We want dicks, not dick pics.”

They both eye me, expecting me to deny it. But I don’t.

I nod. “Yeah. I need to get fucking laid ASAP.”

The Uber driver is smiling to himself as he pulls up beside the bar.

“Does this have something to do with living next to Bram?” Kayla teases.

“This has everything to do with living next to Bram,” I practically moan and the both of them look shocked. “If I don’t screw something soon, I’m going to end up screwing him. And we all know how bad of an idea that is. Even our Uber driver knows. Right?”

Uber driver eyes us in the rear-view mirror. “Sometimes bad ideas are good ideas.”

“When the guy in question happens to be my neighbor and my landlord?”

The guy whistles. “Hoo, boy. Good luck with that one, missy.”

I look back at the girls. “And this is why I need to get laid.”

“Think you can be a wingwoman tonight?” Steph asks Kayla.

Kayla puts on her serious face, like she’s going into battle. “We will get you some dick, honey.”

Our first bar isn’t really the dick-getting kind of place but it is a nice start. We each have a beer flight and share some appies and by the time I’m done with my Kolsch, I’m feeling buzzed. I’m feeling great, actually. I only thought about Bram once, too.

Actually I texted him while I was in the washroom, just checking up on Ava. He answered back that she was asleep and he was watching porn in preparation for my return and that he hoped I was having fun.

I assume the whole porn thing was a joke but part of me started fantasizing over the idea of it not being a joke at all. I mean, I know I don’t have porn on my TV, I just have basic cable, but what if I returned to the apartment, all tipsy and hot and bothered and he was there, ready to go. What would I do?

I think I know the answer but it’s all the more reason to hook up with someone else.

“All right girls,” I announce. “Time to move on.”

Next, we go to a bar called Dirty Habit, which seems to be more subdued than we’d like but still stay for serval more beers and martinis before we end up at some no name place outside of Chinatown where a rowdier crowd thrives.

Things are getting a bit spotty now. We’re sitting in a booth we managed to snag after eyeing the couple in it like a hawk for an hour. There’s a lot of dancing happening on the dance floor and it’s becoming too hard to hear what we’re each saying, so we sit in silence while the music thrums around us. I stop drinking at this point because it’s getting too expensive but before I know it there’s a guy standing in front of the table and whispering something in Kayla’s ear.

He’s pretty hot. Athletic with big round shoulders and short dark-blond hair. A nice smile. Bright eyes. Young. Wearing a Giants shirt. Pretty standard stuff but whatever Kayla is saying to him has him eyeing me appreciatively. I would have thought she wouldn’t have been a very good wingwoman herself but she genuinely seems interested in Project #Dicks (hashtag needed) as she ended up calling it. I noted she called it plural, but I suppose there could always be one for her at the end. After all, Steph has her #dick at home.

Okay, I think I’m drunk. The guy is leaning forward and asking me something but I can’t hear him so I just nod. Then he holds out his hand for me and takes me to the dance floor. I look behind my shoulder at the girls and I can tell Kayla is yelling “Dicks!”

“What’s your name?” the guy asks, as he wraps his arms around my waist and brings me up to his chest.

“All yours,” I tell him with a smirk. I can’t believe that came out of my mouth.

And next thing I know, the guy is kissing me. He tastes like beer and his tongue is too sloppy but I’m into it. The alcohol, the music, the feeling of anonymity on the dance floor. I can be anyone, he can be anyone.

Yet, no matter how hard I try, he can’t be Bram.

The next thing I know, we’re in a cab. Steph is here. Flashes of Kayla. She’s making out with some guy, sitting on his lap. I’m on this Giants guy’s lap.

Then we’re in another bar. Woodbury or something. There are two bars inside. We stay at the one that’s just for beer and shots.

I do a lot of shots. After a while they don’t burn anymore. I make out some more with Giants guy and then he takes me into the handicapped restroom, a place I know is tailor-made for having disgusting bar bathroom sex.

The guy lifts up my dress and asks if I’m on the pill. I am – I’ve been ever since Ava – but I lie. I don’t know why. I tell him I’m not.

“You should be,” he says as he pulls down my underwear. “You don’t want to end up pregnant.”

I look around the bathroom and stop at my reflection. She looks like someone else. Drunk and pretending to be unafraid. The girl in the mirror breaks my heart.

So, I look down at the guy who is grinning up at me and I say, “Doesn’t make a difference, I already have a kid. Ava. Want to see her picture?”

That stops him dead in his tracks. He lets go of my underwear and I widen my leg to prevent it from falling to the dingy floor. I pull it up as he stares at me with panicked eyes. He’s young, too young for the truth.

“Look, uh,” he says, nervously running a hand through his hair. “I don’t mess around with moms. I’m only 24 and I—”

“It’s fine,” I tell him, pulling down my dress. I’m too drunk to try and pretty up my face though, so I just punch him awkwardly on the shoulder. “Thanks for the make-out session though, it was fun.”

“Yeah,” he says, looking sheepish now. “I had no idea. You’re just so fucking hot. And young.”

I nod him my thanks and then unlock the door, heading back out into the bar.

“What happened, did you score?” Kayla asks as I walk over to her and Steph. I notice her boytoy isn’t around either.

“No,” I tell her. “And it’s fine. I just…fuck it, let’s drink everything.”

We immediately order another round of beer and shots of Jameson and we drink until things go back to being blurry again.