Unlovely Things (Love By Design 2)

Signing I wish for her to let it go, “Well, it’s done.”

“I don’t understand why you won’t give him a chance or at least explain to me why and then I can stop bothering you about it.”

“We would be terrible in a committed relationship. Just picture it, Damien the consummate jokester and party boy with me the wild child of a municipal judge. We would be every disappointment people expect of us and more.”

“I think you’re being hard on yourself. Worse, I feel like you’ve written Damien off.” Rubbing the small indents on my arm, I know she’s right. So fucking right, but I pushed it down deep into the recesses and joke instead.

“Hey, I’m not opposed to hopping on when the mood strikes me and I wouldn’t call that writing him off completely.” I bumped my shoulder with hers and she grunts back, must have been something she was picking up from Hunter.

“Is that fair to Damien?”

“Fair to–hey, whose side are you on?” I asked half howling.

“Yours unless you’re being stupid.”

“Well, then let me be stupid.”

13

Damien

“Dame, tell me again why you needed me to drive your ass to the drug store today?” I could have walked given the distance in our town wasn’t something to worry about, but when you’re in for a penny, you’re in for a pound with this group. I had no doubt that Taylor speed dialed her fiancé to come rescue me from my post-Kristen-induced-depression. Hopping out of Hunter’s truck letting the door slam shut I thought about how this whole situation was my fault. I was mad about a past indiscretion that was anything but a misunderstanding to a teenage mind. I was pissed at the cocky cop that felt the need to ram my ass with the book when I was barely over the limit. Another stupid mistake I would never live down now that everyone in town knew and had an opinion on what happened.

I replied because Hunter was silently tapping his fingers against my mind waiting for an answer and we both knew it. “Because I’m not about to tell Kristen I don’t have my driver’s license, fuck face.”

I called Hunter right after I left her house hopefully saving Taylor the minutes on her phone plan. I knew the girls would be too busy discussing girl shit to notice where Hunter picked me up from.

“Charming. You know, I’ve probably got a box of condoms somewhere in the house I don’t need.” Hunter grabbed my shoulder pushing me around. I did not want to think about my cousin and Taylor having sex because it’s wrong no matter how hot she’s always been, it’s like little sister vibes, and you don’t go there. You don’t ever break the bro-code on something like that. Not only that, but there was no way in hell I was taking my cousin’s opened box of rubbers, what were we sixteen again?

“I’m not having sex with her.” I lied and I’m not sure why I felt a bit defensive, it wasn’t like anyone would believe me either way.

“Oh, ho!” Hunter clutched his hand to his chest in mock offense ribbing me good. “I didn’t think you were. Kristen wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole if she was paid.”

“Thanks, asshole.” He was wrong for once. I punched Hunter’s solid wall of a chest to make my point, but he brushed it off chuckling as we walked inside the drug store. I was a man on mission. A mission to not get my balls hacked off by the moodiest female I had the displeasure to be friends and occasional lovers with at a distance.

“Yo, family planning aisle is over here.” Hunter beckoned me, but I shook my head no, instead heading for forbidden territory. The place no sane man should cross unless fettered into a seriously committed relationship. I wasn’t but I was here anyway running through the crosshairs of confusion.

“Are you fucking for real?” Hunter groaned, crossing his arms over his chest staring at the rows of feminine hygiene products the same as me. “I gotta go wash my hair, douche, let me know when I should pick you up.” He turned to leave, but I grabbed his shirt stalling him.

A helpless feeling overwhelmed me and I whispered to him from the side of my mouth, my eyes never leaving the boxes in fear they might jump off the shelf at me. “I didn’t know there were… so many?”

Huffing out a strained breath, Hunter pulled out his phone. “I’m calling Taylor Jane.” I smacked his hand to stop him from involving TJ. I didn’t need everyone in town knowing my business. It was bad enough Evan liked to threaten to arrest me on a nearly weekly basis.

“No. No, don’t do that. Are you kidding me, she’ll never let me forget this.” I was ready to panic. I was already panicking. It wasn’t the tiny pictures of expanding cotton and strings; it was the thought that Kristen could weave them together like a well braided noose to hang me if I screwed up.

Crafty girls… be crazy girls.

Hunter grabbed me by the shoulders and looked me in the eye, a serious glint raking me over. “Dude, I’m not going to let you forget it. Grab the super plus and let’s go.”

“What if that’s not the right kind?” Suddenly I’m worried my life hangs in the balance of not fucking up this one task. Kristen will never give me a shot at redeeming my asshole status.

“Women do this for half their lives, I’m sure a tampon is a tampon.” Hunter seemed sure, but I was not. Is there a wrong kind that will send her off the deep end?

“So you’ve never been sent to fetch tampons before?” Hunter rolled his eyes. I relented slapping my hand against his chest. “Maybe you should call Taylor after all.”

He grunted, “Yeah, I thought you’d see reason.” Hunter walked down the aisle pulling his phone out again to call Taylor. Now I felt mortified. Kristen practically dared me to buy tampons to prove I’m comfortable doing these sorts of tasks given the womanizer status I’ve clutched onto with my cramped ironclad hands all these years.

Hunter returned slipping his phone back in his pocket, scratching his chin thoughtfully before speaking. The back of his neck looked a shade of pink I hadn’t seen before.