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All too soon, I’m across the threshold and in the lobby. A quick elevator ride to the second floor, and I find myself knocking on my best friend’s door.
Despite the late hour, AJ greets me fully dressed with bright eyes. “You okay?” she asks, pulling the door back to allow me entry.
“Yeah.” I shake my head. “No.”
She wraps me in a tight hug. “C’mon. We had taco fries for dinner, and something told me to save you some.”
Fuck. Yes. At least this horrendous day will end on a good note.
As I venture toward the kitchen, the sound of male voices—plural—greets me. Turning the corner, I see Brock and West posted up at the kitchen island, both sipping from bottles of beer.
“Boys,” AJ calls, “look who decided to join us!”
Both men tip their chins toward me in greeting. “Hey,” I say, trying my hardest not to ogle West. It doesn’t matter one iota that he and I have hooked up—only once, and not even beyond a little heavy petting—that man gets my vagina revving like a Ford GT on the start line at a drag race. He’s just so…hot. And funny. And pretty nice. Lord knows he was fucking ace in helping Brock and AJ get together.
Trekking through the kitchen to the fridge, I help myself to a beer of my own. I pop the top on the lip of the counter and bring the frosty bottle to my lips, relishing the slide of the cool liquid down my throat. “Thanks for letting me come by,” I say, wiping the back of my hand across my mouth.
AJ pins me with a hard look. “You’re always welcome here. Now, come sit and let me feed you.”
I quirk a brow at her matronly behavior, wondering what gives. “Uh, sure,” I reply, claiming the stool next to West.
He knocks his knee into mine, simultaneously awakening a whole swarm of butterflies in my belly while grabbing my attention. “You good?” he asks, his voice deliciously deep.
Him knowing means one of two things: either the happy couple here told him what’s going on, or gossip is already making the rounds. My guess is gossip—Lord knows these people trade in other people’s misery like it’s the most valuable commodity there is, and being the first to know the inside scoop puts you at the top of the ladder, so to speak.
I shrug and bring my bottle back to my lips, polishing it off in two gulps. “I’m fine, I guess.”
His warm stare heats me from the inside out. “Let me know if you—”
“Taco fries!” AJ sings, cutting off whatever West was about to say. Which is probably for the best, because pretty much the only thing he could do to help get my mind off of things is get me off, and once AJ and Brock got serious, I vowed to never go there with him. The last thing our little friend group needs is awkwardness between the two of us if one of us was to somehow catch feelings for the other.
Not that I truly think either of us would; relationships and sex are one of those things West and I see eye-to-eye on. We both firmly agree on the commitment-free lifestyle, both more into pleasure versus the pain—unless it’s of the ass-smacking and hair-pulling variety, thank you very much—that relationships inevitably bring.
“I think I’m gonna call it a night,” I announce on a yawn, my belly full and eyelids drooping.
“Sure, of course. Your room’s ready for you.” I can’t help but grin at my bestie. And then, her words hit, and I’m all-out beaming. My. Room. We weren’t allowed to take much of anything when they seized our home, but I have an entire bedroom full of things here still. Halle-fucking-lujah.
Pushing away from the island, I deposit my plate in the sink and hug AJ’s neck before retreating down the hall toward my room—well, really it’s the guest room, but the closet is full of my shit, and that makes it mostly mine.
I nearly weep as I step into the room; swear to God, the futon in here has never looked more appealing than it does now. Between the motel bed’s lumpy, questionable bed, and the cottage floor, this may as well be a five-star hotel mattress.
After nudging the door closed, I strip down to my T-shirt and panties and climb into the bed and plug my phone into charge. I worry sleep won’t come easy, but wrapped in the covers, burrito style, I drift off in no time at all.
All too soon, the sun rises, bringing with it a fresh wave of anxiety. Even though I slept for at least six hours, I feel like I pulled an all-nighter. Couple all of that with the fact that I’m so not a morning person, and well, yeah, it adds up to one grumpy redhead. Artificial or not, us redheads are a fiery bunch on a good day, and something tells me today will not be good.
