a cheater, paying for a mocha outside the Wayward Sun. It’s not as good and none of their pastries look homemade.
I’m tossing my cup in the trash when Claire stops, gripping my arm, eyes focused on a shop ahead. I look at the sign over the door and shake my head. “No. No way.”
“No, look. It’s Christina.”
Sure enough, she’s walking in the door with two other cheerleaders.
“Come on.” She drags me over.
“What? I don’t need any,” I lower my voice. “Underwear like that.”
“Why not? It’s the perfect gift—for everyone.”
We’re outside the door and I feel my cheeks warm up despite the cold. “We hardly see one another right now and, well, it’s not like they’d see it anyway.”
She studies me for a minute and then, like in a cartoon, her eyes widen when the lightbulb hits. In a low voice, she asks, “You’re not having sex with…well, any of them?”
I think back to Dexter. The one time. The one amazing time before things got really complicated. “No.”
She grips my arm again. “Well Christina doesn’t know that.”
“What?” I ask, stumbling up the store step.
“You want to get Christina back for wrecking your life? The best thing you can do is rub her nose in what you have that she doesn’t.”
I nod, finally catching on, and following her into the shop.
The entire shop looks like pink vomited all over every surface, although there is a display up front with a sexy Santa theme. I feel incredibly awkward, but Claire whispers in my ear, “Fake it ‘til you make it, girl.”
She’s right. I have four amazing boyfriends. Four. And it’s her fault I’m not with them right now and her fault that the twins had to move out. She got me blacklisted. So what if she thinks I’m having sex with one or even all of them? Especially Jake.
“What about this one?” Claire says, picking up a pink bra and panty set. A set I could never imagine myself wearing. One of the cheerleaders notices us and whispers in Christina’s ear.
“I don’t know,” I say, pretending I don’t see them. “Jake’s favorite color is blue.”
She walks across the store and holds up two different colors. “Navy or royal?”
“Light blue. Like his eyes.”
Claire smiles wickedly, amused at me playing along. “But I don’t know if that’s the right style.”
“No?” she asks, “why not?”
I pick up the thong. “He’s more of an ass man. I think he’d prefer this.”
Christina, who has been standing in the back, flips her hair over her shoulder and walks toward us.
“Oh, hi Christina,” I say sweetly. “I didn’t see you here.”
“Please. You totally saw me and you want me to think you’re buying lingerie for Jake. I’m not an idiot.” Her words are calm but there’s something about her voice that makes me think she’s not so sure.
“Well what do you think? Thong or bikini.”
She rolls her eyes. “I think those boys are locked down tight up there in Lee Vines, even with you next door. I don’t think anyone is going to see what’s under your ratty clothes, so you may as well go for the white cotton panties over there and call it a day.”
It takes everything in me not to tell her how I know what Jake likes. I know what his tongue feels against me and I know how he tastes, feels. But I’m not about to tell her about my private relationship with him. He’s too important. We’re too important.
“You know,” I say to Claire, “Christina’s right.”