All the Sauce (IceCats 4)

“Wow, okay!”

She laughs, her face so bright and happy. I wish she would take off some clothes. She has to be hot, but she stays in her dark-colored sweats. “I told you how I don’t like my boss slash roommate’s boyfriend, right?”

I nod. “Yeah, he’s a dick.”

“Super dick,” she agrees. “He’s just very rude to me, so I told London about it this morning, and she just kind of blew it off. Said I was being sensitive and that he was just messing with me.”

“The fuck?” I say, making a face. “Do you think he is joking around?”

“No, not at all,” she says around the bite she just took. “He’s outwardly being mean to me.”

“What’s he saying?”

She looks away then, shrugging. “Just calls me names.”

“What is he, five? What the hell?”

“Exactly. But according to her, he would never be like that. It’s as if she doesn’t even know him, but what bothered me the most was that she wouldn’t even hear me.”

“She’s not your friend,” I say simply. “A friend would listen to your concerns and address them, even if she doesn’t think them to be true. It’s validating the person, ya know?”

“Exactly!” she says, holding out her hand to me. “Man, your parents really did a good job raising y’all.”

I smile proudly. “It’s true. We’re all amazing,” I joke, and she scoffs.

“So cocky!”

“Hey, I’m only cocky about the stuff I know to be true.” She rolls her eyes, but I’m not done with the whole friend thing. “But you should tell her about herself.”

She shakes her head. “No point. I found out where I stand, so I’ll start looking for another place to live. I just hate to go back there.”

I waggle my brows at her. “You are welcome here. I have an extra bed in my room.”

“Why?”

“It’s Evan’s bed.”

“Y’all still shared a room?”

“Yes. He’s my twin.”

“I can’t with how cute you two are, little best friends.”

She looks up, and I capture her gaze with mine. “Funny, I was just thinking how I can’t with how gorgeous you are.”

She squints at me, fighting back a grin. “Did you grab a beer to look cool?”

“Don’t need one. I’m drunk off the fact that I know you like me,” I retort, and once more, she rolls her eyes.

“So damn cocky. And you must be drunk, because I look like shit.”

I don’t allow her to look away, my eyes burning into hers. I know she doesn’t believe me or even see her beauty, but I do, and I’ll continue to tell her the same until she realizes it.

Chapter Fourteen

Angie

* * *

I need Owen Adler to stop looking at me like he wants to eat me whole.

My first instinct is that he’s drunk, but I know he isn’t. He finds me attractive, and I don’t know why. I can understand his wanting to help me at the gym or tease me, but he is coming on to me like a puppy after a piece of food from a toddler. I don’t get it. He can have anyone. Anyone! But he wants me. I should have chosen his friend Dart. He looks like the kind of guy that I could have had sex with and walk away after.

There will be no walking away from Owen if we cross that bridge.

According to him, I won’t be walking at all.

Jesus, that makes my knees weak and I’m sitting down.

I finally look away from him since his expression is hitting me square in the stomach. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Stop thinking you’re not gorgeously hot,” he retorts. “Maybe if I stare at you like this, you’ll start to realize the same.”

“Or I’ll think you’re a psycho.”

He nods. “That is a huge possibility too.”

I giggle as we continue to eat our food from this fantastic hot dog place. I didn’t even know it existed, but I’m glad he introduced me to it. I haven’t had a good hot dog in a while. Along with the surprising hot dogs, I’m surprised by Owen once more. He’s so silly, so animated, and completely unlike any guy I’ve ever dated. I usually go for the really quiet, stoic kinds of guys. The ones who don’t talk much since I talk so much. With Owen, I find we both run our mouths, and it’s easy.

Way too easy.

I am not supposed to be into Owen Adler. I’m letting down teenage Angie. Or I’m fulfilling her deepest desires, and adult Angie is about to embark on something she isn’t ready for.

I’m not sure which one terrifies me more.

“I’m going to eat another one,” I say, grabbing my third. “I didn’t eat today.”

He gives me a look. “You don’t have to explain why you’re eating, Angie. Eat.”

I press my lips together and wonder why I do that. He’s right. I don’t have to explain my actions to anyone.