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CHAPTERSEVEN
RIFF
It’s been weeks since I’ve been inside of Tanner and I can’t get the bitch out of my head, no matter who I fuck. I tell myself more than once that it’s just because I fucked her bare. That’s the only reason I’m obsessed with her. I mean, sure, she’s gorgeous, but she’s also just a woman.
I’ve been with hundreds. Taking her bare has to be the reason… right?
I don’t know shit about her. I don’t know why I’m obsessing over her. But fuck me, I want her again. I want to taste her, feel her, own her. I’ve never felt this way before, about anyone. It’s fucking ridiculous.
I’m working on Rebecca’s van for the millionth time and wondering why the fuck the hot MILF of a mom is still with the jackass that she’s with. He can’t even get off of his fat ass long enough to keep a job and get her a new ride.
“You got this piece of shit up and running again?” Bowie asks, walking up toward me.
“Nope,” I say with a pop of myP. “I really hate her old man,” I mutter.
“No shit,” Bowie grinds out. “She does not deserve the shit he hands her. Kids or no kids,” he murmurs. “Got a dilemma of my own,” he adds.
“What’s that?” I ask as I try to give the engine most of my attention so that he doesn’t see me staring at him, waiting to tell me his problem.
There is a moment of silence, so I decide to turn to him as I wipe the sweat from my brow, no doubt leaving a trail of grease behind. I don’t care though, these guys have seen me in a much worse state.
“Luella is having a hard time accepting Marilyn. She was a bitch to her, and she regrets it, but she doesn’t know how tonotbe a bitch anymore.”
“This is some girl shit, if I ever heard girl shit,” I say.
Letting out a laugh, he lifts his hand and runs his fingers through his hair, tugging on the ends. “Yeah,” he says. “But she won’t talk to the other old ladies, so I gotta hear about this shit on the regular and it’s really starting to kill my buzz.”
“Marilyn is good people, you know she’d understand,” I say.
I’m not sure what else to say on that subject. Luella judged her for being a stripper, that’s the long and short of it. She judged her without knowing who she was as a person. Now she feels like shit because she shouldn’t have done that. Fuck me if that’s just not the way of life. That’s how shit goes down sometimes.
“Tell her the truth of it. Marilyn doesn’t give a shit. A simplesorrywill fix it all with her. Tell her that she can come talk to me about it. But that’s exactly what I’m going to say to her.”
“You mean it? Can I send her back here to you? She doesn’t want to hear that shit from me. I don’t know what she wants from me.”
“Sure,” I say. “Send her ass back here.”
He turns away, and I watch as he walks toward the office door, no doubt on a path to get his wife and then to send her in here.
“Stop getting her pregnant and she won’t be so hormonal, yeah?” I call out.
Bowie lifts his hand and gives me the middle finger. I let out a loud bark of laughter at his reaction, mainly because he knows I’m right. He keeps knocking her up and then complaining that she’s a fucking mess all the time. I’m sure her hormones are fucking spinning right now.
TANNER
Ithrow up for the third day in a row.Shit. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me, but now it’s beyond the food poisoning that I thought I had. I lay my head against my arm, wondering if I’m going to throw up a whole bunch of nothing yet again.
Dry heaving is its own kind of hell that I don’t wish on anyone. I can’t even remember the last time that I was sick and throwing up like this… maybe never. I hate being sick. I hate it with a passion.
“Babe?” Jenna calls out with a soft knock against the bathroom door.
The only good thing to come out of that night a few weeks ago with Riff and my fight with Brent was that he made their relationship official. They are dating, seriously, and committed… every damn night they’re committed, and I have to hear it through our shared wall.
It’s kind of cool that my best friend is dating my brother. But, hearing them screw every night is a new level of ick that I wish I didn’t know about. It’s something you can never forget, no matter how hard you try, because believe me, I’ve tried.
Inhaling a deep breath, I force myself to sit up, then reach for the door handle and turn it before I tug it open. She slips into the room and sinks down on the floor next to me, cross-legged. Looking at her, I can tell that she has something to say to me.
Instead of speaking, like I thought she would, she slides something across the floor toward me. It’s a small plastic bag from the drugstore. Tipping my chin down, I look at the bag, but don’t reach to pick it up.
