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She smiles up at me.
“I’m nobody,” I tell her. “Get lost.”
Her smile falls and her eyes stray elsewhere.
No, she’s nowhere near in the same league as Tess.
“Now who is overthinking things?”
I wonder how long it’ll take me to quit fixating on the hottest one night stand in history.
I think it’ll take a long fucking time.
Especially because I don’t want to quit thinking about it. I’d much rather jerk off to those memories until my dick is worn out.
“Ready?” Conner, finally free of his fan club, gestures to the door. Then he pauses to peer at me with some suspicion. “What are you so happy about?”
I shrug. “My lunch was tasty.”
Then I file past him so he can’t examine me anymore. Conner has instincts when it comes to sex. It wouldn’t be a complete surprise if he guessed the truth about me and Tess right out of thin air.
Luckily, his mind has wandered by the time we return to his truck. He wants to talk about his house, the one he hasn’t bought yet.
“The north side has all the quiet old neighborhoods,” he says while heading for the westbound freeway. “We should go there.”
“We?”
“Yeah.” He fiddles with the radio until locating a classic rock station. “I thought you’d be my roommate. You can’t expect me to live in a house all by myself.”
He’s mentioned this before. I don’t hate the idea of living with Conner. I don’t hate it at all.
But the life I’ve made on the east side is easy and uncomplicated.
This is a conscious choice.
The thought of moving to some decadent gated community populated by McMansions isn’t tempting. Sounds too much like West Emerald.
“Think about it,” he urges.
“Sure.” I’ll find a way to let him down easy.
Political signs scream on every corner. Many of them belong to Stuart Ballerini, his last name stenciled in gigantic block letters to make sure you can’t misread it.
I’ve never thought much of Tess’s father. The guy is so fake he’s practically plastic. Plus, I’ve seen him drool over Dani in a creepy way that makes me want to kick his kneecaps out.
And then there’s how he treats Tess.
Like she’s his indentured servant, or a stage prop to advance his ambitions. That’s always bothered me. Today it bothers me more.
He was my father’s business partner at one time but I don’t remember much about that. I do remember the arguments my parents had. Matilda wanted her husband to work for her at Yellow Brick. He refused, preferring to keep running his real estate business with his buddy, Stuart Ballerini. If my father had lived, I doubt he and Matilda would have stayed together but you never know.
No one will ever know. That’s the thing about death. It leaves a whole lot of questions behind.
The closer we get to West Emerald the more my muscles tense. All the satisfaction I’d been feeling after an epic night with Tess begins to vaporize.
There’s more than one reason for bad blood between me and West Emerald but I can’t think of the old neighborhood anymore without also thinking of Olivia.
And then I want to throw the fuck up.
