“Too tired to fuck me, huh?” she tempts. “Remember how much you like it when I ride your cock? How you tell me how tight I am, how you love to watch my ass bounce on you when I ride you reverse cowgirl?”
“Daphne. Stop.”
“Why? It’s true. You love how wet I get for you.”
I look at the ceiling like there’s some divine intervention that’s going to happen by studying the crown moulding.
“Look,” I say, my voice raspy, “let’s not go there, Daph.”
I need to make her feel good about getting brushed off. I need her Dad’s endorsement; I can’t have her pissed. That’s not going to help anyone.
“Whoever you’re fucking right now isn’t going to last, Barrett. You know that. You always come back to me.”
“Why make this hard, Daph?”
“I always make it hard. You know that.”
I struggle to not roll my eyes. “Whether that’s true or not, it doesn’t change the fact that I’m busy tonight. And I will be tomorrow and the next night too, if you’re wondering,” I add.
“So it’s true,” she chirps. “You know our friends are saying she’s not one of us. That she might even be a waitress.”
“Excuse me?” I bellow. “What the fuck does that even mean and why in the hell is it any of your business?”
She laughs in the phone. “That says it all.”
“Don’t you talk about her like that. Like she’s beneath you somehow.”
“Defensive, are we? Wow. She must be a helluva lay to get the playboy Barrett Landry wound around her finger.”
“Shut your fucking mouth, Daphne.”
Her laugher gets louder, causing my blood to nearly boil.
“That’s no way to talk to a lady,” she snaps.
“It’s a good thing I’m not talking to a lady then, isn’t it?”
“Touché.”
I hear her dog yap in the background, her doorbell rings. She laughs again.
“I gotta go, Barrett. I have company.”
“Hey, Daph?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t call me again.”
I end the call and toss my phone on the bed. It sinks into my blankets and I wish I could sink in with it.
There’s a raw spot in my gut that I can’t shake. Daphne is a cocktail waiting to explode. She always has been, it’s a part of her DNA. Normally it doesn’t matter, but now that Alison is woven in this situation, it’s unnerving.
I’ve always handled Daphne with some charm and cock; I can’t do that now. Moreover, withholding both from her will only direct any reaction to Alison, the one person I don’t want to feel the crazy.
Picking my phone back up, Alison answers in a few rings.
“Hello?” she asks sleepily.