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Tristan was the only one left clueless, but she was smart enough to realize something in the atmosphere had just changed, because she sat up straighter and looked confused to Erin and Mandy. Both girls avoided her glance.
“Hey, Brent,” Aidrian started huskily as she moved just behind him on the couch, “we never did go and get that drink we talked about.” She casually touched him on the shoulder.
And then Tristan got it. Well, not my part, but she sent a heated glare at Aidrian. She masked it miraculously when Brent glanced at her, caught in the headlights of both females.
“Uh, yeah, we didn’t,” he mumbled warily, watching Tristan’s reaction.
“Brent,” Tristan soothed, sitting closer, “remember that time at Crystal Bay last year, when you tripped and fell into the water.” She giggled. “You looked so adorable, but you had that drink all over you.”
“Yeah.” The guy seemed a little bit scared now, but still interested where this might lead. Just the fact that he’s a guy, he was probably thinking: Threesome!
“And remember what else happened that night?” Tristan asked, her voice nails-on-a-chalkboard sweet.
“Uh—” The guy gulped. I could see his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.
I was interested to find out what happened that night.
“Maybe we should do that again sometime,” Tristan suggested, looking demure and sexy at the same time.
“Uh,” Brent grinned wolfishly, “yeah, I think we should too.”
“Brent, honey.” Aidrian sent her own seductive smile his way, her fingers moved to his neck and massaged. “Do me a favor? Get me a drink?” She held out her empty cup.
I kind of felt a little sorry for the guy. He didn’t know what to do: Tristan or Aidrian.
Oh the life, huh.
“You can get me one too.” Tristan answered his dilemma.
“Sure. Sure.” His head bobbed up and down, standing up, he murmured, “I’ll be right back.”
When he left, I saw the two girls turn and glare at each other. Tristan stood up slowly, but Aidrian didn’t back down. The only barrier between them was the couch. There was such a contrast between them.
Aidrian looked the equivalent of white trash, but there was an extra flare in her attitude; the way she held herself—strong and tall. She was wearing the stereotypical mini-skirt, the ends frayed, a halter-top that ended just above her mid-riff, large hoop earrings, fake eyelashes, and glittery lipstick completed her outfit.
Oh no, after a more thorough look, I saw the twinkle in her eyes when she looked at me. She knew what I’d done. She knew full well, but I saw the territorial bitch in her. Tristan was poaching and it was Aidrian’s duty to send her packing.
Then there was Tristan. She wore a white, sleek tank top that wrapped itself around her—not the other way around—and crisp white trousers. Rich, stuck-up snob rolled off her. As she stood there on the patio, she looked like the embodiment of class.
Crystal and her friend had taken root behind Aidrian with Erin and Mandy behind Tristan. They looked like they were facing off in a hockey match. The only thing missing was the puck, hockey sticks, the ref, and all the other hockey gear. Never mind.
My work here was done, so I slipped out.
“Hey, girl.” An arm found its way around my shoulders and pulled me close to a chest.
Rooters.
“Hey,” I replied. “What’s up?”
He was standing with Honey, Bit, and Aaron. Just behind them, I saw Helms and Mitch with some girls from Pedlam on their laps. Helms and Mitch looked to be loving it.
“Where’d you come from?”
“Patio.”
“Who’s out there?”
“No one, it’s why I left,” I said gracefully, shrugging.
