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“Come on, it’s true! You’ve seen her, right?”
Sebastian nods slowly, conceding the point. “I wouldn’t have been the one to say it out loud. But now that it’s out in the open, I’ll agree. Summer’s hot as hell.”
Nothing but the truth is being spoken, and any guy with a working dick would have to be blind not to see it. Still, my jaw tightens as a protective, possessive feeling pulses inside me.
Rhys tilts his chin towards me. “Watcha got there?”
“Cupcakes,” I say, walking to the kitchen counter and setting the tray down.
That’s all I need to say to have Tuck, Sebastian, and Rhys stampeding in my direction.
“Enough for all of us?” Rhys queries eagerly, detaching the foil.
“Fuck, those look good,” Sebastian fawns.
“Oh, wait. Did your hot girlfriend make these?” Tuck asks.
My eyelids are narrow enough to cut as I fix a cold glare on him.
Tuck, as usual, is utterly unbothered. He peels the liner off the cupcake he picked up and pops the whole thing in his ample mouth. “Take that as a yes?” he mumbles through his chews like a toddler who hasn’t been taught any manners yet.
Lane moseys over, eyeing the treats with the kind of self-reproach that I know all too well. Then, he shrugs. “What the hell?” he asks rhetorically, snatching up one for himself.
“How in the world did you end up with her anyway?” Tuck asks once he swallows his mouthful of cupcake.
“Again, I wasn’t gonna ask it myself,” Sebastian chimes in. “But I am curious.”
I cross my arms over my chest, my lips thinning. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I think he means Summer Andrews is the sweetest girl in the world and you’re a terrifying grump,” Rhys happily supplies.
I shrug. “Opposites attract.”
“Guess so,” Lane says, his brow raising. “Well, if it means we keep getting cupcakes like these, I’m glad they do.”
Tuck gasps. “What about our diets, captain?”
Lane takes a big bite of his cupcake with bright red frosting. “When cupcakes are this good, they’re worth cheating for.”
I guess Summer’s baking has a way of pulling the rod out of people’s asses.
“Just saying,” Tucker picks up his previous thought, turning back to me, “Summer Andrews isn’t the kind of girl I’d have pictured you with.”
“What kind of girl would you have pictured me with, then?”
Tuck ponders, tapping his chin with the pad of his index finger. “A goth chick, maybe. Dark eyeliner. Always wears black. Pale skin like she never goes out in the sun, but blood red lipstick … fuck, she’d be pretty hot, too.”
“Even if my imaginary goth girlfriend has a starring role in your fantasies tonight, Tuck, please promise that you’ll keep me out of them.”
The rest of the guys crack up laughing. You know, these guys aren’t too bad to hang out with. I should really make it a point to tag along with them next time they go out to Loser’s. Especially since I’ll probably be moving out at the end of this semester, with Salsa.
After Summer and I stop pretending to be together.
The thought makes my stomach twist uncomfortably.
For the first time, the thought that Summer and I are going to set aside our fake relationship before long makes me feel …
Maybe it’s better if I don’t put a name to the emotion that it makes me feel.
