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“God, she’s so desperate. Why does she always have to sniff around our guys?”
“They’re not our guys,” I say numbly because that’s the feeling that’s taking over my body. Archer’s not my guy. We messed around a few times, but that’s it. It didn't mean anything. Well, not for Archer, at least. Obviously.
“You know what I mean. She never throws herself at Tim Beladry.”
“I’m pretty sure she’s slept with him.”
“Okay, fine, so then she needs to go back for sloppy seconds.”
“Why are you being so territorial over Archer?” The words pop out of my mouth before I even think about it. Do I actually think Ruby wants Archer in any way? No. I don’t. In fact, I think she and Ezra have this weird love to hate each other thing going on that will probably blow up in their faces someday.
“Because you're my friend, and I can tell that whatever is going on between you two, it’s more than just scratching an itch. Plus, do you really want Jean Jammer touching him?”
Loralei got her nickname from Ruby because she dry humped half our graduating class, including one of Ruby’s boyfriends. To say Ruby isn’t a fan is putting it lightly. Normally I’d say, good for you, scratch that itch–except for the boyfriend part–but the thought of Archer touching her, touching anyone, makes me want to scream at the heavens.
“Well, at least they’ll probably leave their clothes on.” That’s supposed to be a joke, but it comes out with way more bite than I intend. I’m not good at pretending that I’ve casually accepted how things are between Archer and me. Even if I’m the one who pumped the brakes.
I don’t want to think about Loralei DHing anyone, especially not Archer. I down my drink in one long chug and Ruby whistles.
“Where’s your underaged boyfriend? I'm ready for another drink.”
A grin splits Ruby’s face, and she grabs my hand. “Come with me, and I’ll get you wasted.
