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“What’re you doing?”
“I need you to save me. A girl I hooked up with last semester walked in, and she’s a stage-five clinger. Pretend like you’re into me.”
I make a gagging sound and try to get out of the chair, but the springs in the seat are shot, and my knees are practically at my chest. “Seriously, BJ, that’s just wrong. We’re related.”
“She doesn’t know that. Just stay put until she’s gone.” He wraps his arm around my shoulder to keep me seated.
I’m not sure if I’m embarrassed or entertained or both. BJ is ridiculously charismatic, and girls throw themselves at him on a regular basis.
A tall, blonde girl with her hair pulled up in a ponytail, fastened by a pink glitter bauble more suited to a six-year-old, wearing uber-short-shorts, a spaghetti-strap tank, and four-inch espadrilles sashays over, popping pink bubble gum. Interestingly, she looks a little like Lovey and Lacey, but a lot less wholesome.
She glances at me, eyes narrowing slightly, then turns a creepy, megawatt, lip-glossed smile on my cousin. “BJ! How are you? You remember me, right? We hooked up at that party at the end of last semester. I texted you after, and then left you a voicemail, but maybe you didn’t get the messages.”
“I got the messages.” BJ’s tone is flat.
“Oh.” She twists the end of her ponytail around her finger. “I get it . . . end of year, you got busy with stuff.”
“Uh, not really. I figured it was a one-off, so I didn’t think calling or responding to text messages would give the right impression.”
I don’t know whether to be embarrassed for this girl and her obvious desperation or horrified by BJ’s easy dismissal.
“Oh. Yeah. Totally.” She nods a bunch of times. “I thought maybe you’d want to hook up again, but, like, maybe you’re involved now, or whatever.” She shoots me another scathing look. “Anyway, I heard there’s a party this weekend, so if you’re there, and you’re, like, not attached, then we could hang out again or something . . .” The offer hangs in the air like a hot fart after taco Tuesday.
“It’s probably not gonna happen. But you know, I appreciate the offer.”
More nodding from the girl follows. “Okay, well, you can always text if you change your mind.” And with that, she flounces off to the barista.
I shudder in disgust. “I can’t believe that just happened. That was harsh.”
BJ shrugs. “She’s tried to screw every single guy on our street, so don’t feel too bad for her. Three days ago, she tried to hook up with Liam when she was at our place, and when she realized he had a twin, she thought it would be fun to see if they were both game.”
“Please don’t share the outcome of that story.”
“You know that’s not Liam’s style. Laughlin, maybe . . .”
Laughlin is their older brother, who has the personality of a vampire and the social skills of a gnat. It’s crazy because Uncle Miller and Aunt Sunny are quite literally the nicest people on the face of the earth.
I shake my head. “Still, I don’t know how you guys don’t all have raging cases of incurable STIs at this point.”
“Condoms are the answer to all of life’s problems,” BJ muses.
“Or you guys could choose not to screw the same girls.” I try to pull myself out of the chair, but I’m wedged in.
“Yeah, but then you run the risk of getting emotionally involved, and I’m not ready for that.”
BJ is unapologetic about his prolific sex life, and he never leads girls on. They just can’t help but fall for him. The beard, the tattoos, the fact that he’s a figure skater? He’s also ridiculously well endowed, which I’ve been unfortunate enough to confirm with my own eyes, thanks to his lack of modesty.
The bell over the door tinkles, and a ripple of excitement moves through the café. I don’t have to look to know who’s graced everyone with his majestic presence because I can sense him, like a shadow darkening my already-shitty day. Again.
“Fuck my life.” I stop trying to get out of the chair and try to sink farther into it instead. I keep my eyes trained on BJ’s outstretched legs and will them to stay there.
“Ballistic, we need to talk.” Kodiak’s voice comes from my left. He’s close enough that I can smell his cologne.
“Aboot?”
Like my dad, BJ’s mom is Canadian, and for whatever reason, there are a few words where that accent bleeds through.
“Who you let into the house.”
BJ shifts beside me, his arm stretching out across the back of the chair. “You weren’t complaining this afternoon, from what I heard. And she wasn’t mine; she was Quinn’s.”
I don’t want to be here. I want to disappear. I don’t want to listen to this, to be this close to Kodiak and hear him and BJ talk about the girls they have sex with. Particularly when only minutes before the girl currently in question, he was driving me home, making me feel like nothing. Then he hammered home the point by screwing a bunny right after.
