Unlovely Things (Love By Design 2)
Page 27
“Yeah, and that’s kind of your fault, my dear.” I pointed a glitter encrusted finger at her with my misplaced anger.
“Speaking of, what’s going on with Evan? Or Damien? Or whoever it is this week?”
“Evan kind of broke up with me, even though we weren’t really together. More of a have a nice life kind of thing.”
She pushed my pointer finger away, “Oh honey, I am always here for you.” I knew this but I couldn’t wrap my mind around my best friend in the whole world taking up with a dude on a permanent basis–even if that dude was Hunter Hart and perfect for her. It was stupid and I felt the acid of tears burn my eyes.
I dropped the envelope into my pile of confiscated mail from Demon’s place. I don’t read any of it, but I do glitter bomb it. I think one of them is a car insurance bill, and a flyer for our local school board elections. “Pfft. Demon should know better than to open up the Publisher’s Clearing House letter just to send it right back to them. He only does it to jack them for the postage costs.”
“Heaven forbid a man has his quirks.” Taylor threw her hands up in the air pretending exasperation. “Don’t you think this is a bit more effort than it’s worth?”
“Are you kidding me? He was so pissed when the glitter dicks came in the mail I just about peed myself.”
“Well, you did pee yourself that time he pranked you with the Ghost Hunters.”
Clearing my throat, I give her my best southern accent. “Why, Taylor Jane Bryant, that’s probably the saltiest thing you’ve said to me in all our years of friendship, accusing me of public urination.” Holding my hand against my chest, we both cracked a smile cackling with laughter.
“Hardly… I think Hunter and I should coordinate side by side plots at the cemetery in town, so you two can be buried together for all eternity when you’re finished killing one another.”
“Damn, that’s harsh, but dying first does have its perks.” I tapped my glue and glitter coated nail against my lip thinking about the logistics.
Smiling, Taylor rolled her eyes and we both knew I was one hundred percent not kidding. “I’m afraid to ask.”
“Think about it, I’ll get to haunt his ass for the rest of his days! What could possibly be better than that?” My fist pumps make it rain sparkles and I laughed dancing in my seat. This would be a hell of a mess to clean up later and I would be kicking myself if all the glitter killed my vacuum cleaner.
“Are you sure you just don’t want to marry him, I mean that’s like the next best thing, a lifetime of misery for you two right there.” I would never admit to my best friend how much that interested me in the slightest. I spied her pretty diamond ring from the corner of my eye that glittered more than all the craft glitter on my coffee table with a purity that reflected my loneliness in a stark and glaring light. I had to beat down the green eyed monster of jealousy as she spoke and bring the conversation back to its lighter tone.
“Nah, I couldn’t do cool shit like walk through walls and spy on him in the shower reminding him how his dick curves ever so slightly to the right.” I also thought about how it pressed thick inside his jeans when I leaned into him and we made out when no one was watching. His hips would turn up to meet might and rest heavy against my center making me whimper as we fought for control over the other. The attraction was heady and complicated.
“It’s truly disturbing how much you’ve thought this through, Kristen, and how much I never knew you knew about his junk.” Taylor’s right, but it’s the best kind of disturbing behavior I’ve indulged in, perhaps in years.
“So I’ll see you at Easton’s later tonight?” I asked.
“Of course. Can I expect a spectacle of fireworks?”
“Summer’s half over, anything is possible.” I smiled.
15
Damien
I watched Kristen dance to the band currently playing cover songs from our high school youth. Ricky Martin’s, She Bangs quickly becomes Katy Perry’s, I Kissed A Girl and Taylor blushed over something Kristen whispered in her ear on the dance floor while a dark haired girl I didn’t know dances with them in their private little group.
A bunch of us guys are standing at the bar, Andy is filling drinks, a red headed waitress ran back and forth delivering to tables and I watched the girls in case they need me to intervene. Damn, my life was hard sometimes as I sighed into my drink where I dragged out a sip of sweet beer letting the carbonation bubble in my mouth.
Kristen’s jean shorts frayed at the bottom and cupped her hot ass. I’d have given my right arm to touch the spot where her cheeks creased her legs, but I figured she cut my arm off if I tried. Dancing and swaying to the beat of the music playing, she looked over her shoulder for a second, and our eyes briefly caught for a moment. Kelly Clarkson’s Behind Those Hazel Eyes belted out from the stage and I’m pulled onto the floor following her hips like a lost puppy dog. Damn that killer smile of hers, it never failed to get me going. Not the one that says she’s got my balls in a vice grip for a change, but the one that says she sees me for me, and
lets go of all the baggage from our past. It gave me hope, but the look was fleeting as the sky changing before a storm. The air charged with electricity and power, the lull temporary like the eye of the hurricane. The moment is quickly gone and I’m standing in the middle of the dance floor alone while my chest aches missing it.
She had no clue she affected me like this and I hesitate to think about telling her ever what it means. Looking at her made me think if she only knew it would be game over for my sorry ass. As it were, she already owned my soul. I loved Kristen Calloway and the odds were seriously stacked against me. We were on a path charted for mutual homicide at the rate we were going, and that fucker Evan Rooney reveled in it.
She could be talking shit about me in Easton’s when she doesn’t think I’m listening, or humming a damn song two generations too old for her and in those strange moments there’s just something about her. Something I love wholly and irrevocably.
“Someone has the beat over there.” Hunter sidled up next to me handing me a fresh beer.
“I could say the same to you.” I used my beer bottle to point in the girl’s general direction and watched Hunter zero in on his fiancée. Sucker. For once, it felt good to know I wasn’t the only Hart male who was owned by a woman.
He surprised me by adding, “Yes, but mine only scratches when I ask her nicely.” The comment has me choking on my beer wishing I could scrub the visual from my eyes. Little T-Rex was like a sister to me and I would never–ever think of her as anything else.