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“Not looking for your advice about getting over someone.”
“Fair enough.” He finishes his water, tosses it in the recycling bin. “But I know not getting over someone.”
“And?”
“Proximity doesn’t help.” His dark eyes fix on something to our right.
Kaylee. His still eighteen-year-old girlfriend.
She’s wearing an Ariel bikini with a purple top and a flared metallic green skirt. Her long blond hair hangs over her shoulders. Powder blue glasses frame her green eyes.
She’s too young for him.
But the way they’re looking at each other—
Anybody can see they belong together.
She turns to me. Waves. Spares me the torture of a hug from an acquaintance. “Hey, Ryan. How’s it going?”
“Good.” I take a long sip of my tequila and lime. It doesn’t hit the spot, but everything else makes me feel like I’m being boiled alive. “How’s work?”
“The new restaurant is great. Down to two days a week for the same money as four.” She wraps her arm around Brendon’s waist. Rests her head against his chest. “Are you and Leighton seeing each other?”
Brendon chuckles. “You’re gonna field this question all day.”
“How hard is it to say yes?” I ask.
“I don’t lie to my girlfriend,” he says.
“All that lying to your sister and your friends use up your quota for deception?” I try to make my voice teasing, but it’s more of an attack.
She looks to him. Huh?
He brushes her hair behind her ear. Leans in to whisper.
She nods oh.
He keeps whispering.
She blushes.
“Dirty talk somewhere else,” I say.
She laughs. “I guess that answers my next question.”
I arch a brow.
“If you’re sleeping together.” She pulls her boyfriend closer. “Sorry. That was rude. You can still be cranky after sex.”
“Bad sex.” Brendon pulls her frames from her eyes. Folds them and sets them on the glass table next to us.
She nods true.
They share a look. Something like oh, that’s Ryan’s problem. He needs to get laid.
No arguments here.
I need the sweaty exhaustion that comes with sex.
