Very Twisted Things (Briarwood Academy 3)

She chuckled. “I suppose all your important bits are covered, and I love your accent, by the way. It makes your near nudity quite funny.”

He barked out a laugh and stuck his hand out. “Great. I’m Spider, by the way. I think I missed saying that at the door. Probably because I was blinded by your beauty.”

“I’m V.” Her eyes lingered on his tattoos. She smiled at us both. “So. You got any bananas?”

“What’s going on?” I asked as Spider handed her a couple of bananas from the fruit stand on the counter.

“When I opened the door, V noticed how poorly I looked and offered to make me a hangover remedy. By the way, nice of you to tell me you took a swim in the neighbor’s pool to rescue Monster.”

“I didn’t tell you because you were gone when I got back,” I snapped, jealous of their instant camaraderie.

“I’ll need more fruit—whatever you have. And something green, like spinach or kale or fancy lettuce,” she said, busily peeling the bananas and ignoring us. “Oh, and a mixer or a blender would be great, too.”

I found the blender while Spider pulled oranges and spinach leaves out of the fridge. “This work?” he said.

“Perfect,” she said brightly, taking it from him. “Once you drink this, you’ll be ready to take on the world.”

“Healthy drinks aren’t my cup of tea, but I’ll try anything for you.” He smiled broadly, his eyes crinkling in the corners. Great. He liked her—which was a rarity.

I grunted.

She shot me a look. “You need one too? It’ll help.”

“With what?” I muttered.

“With your grunting problem. Constipated?” she asked.

Spider snickered. “Oh, he’s just mad because I let you in.”

“Is that so?” she said, giving me a careful look.

“We left on weird terms last night,” I admitted.

“What happened last night?” Spider chimed in, eyes darting between us.

“Nothing,” V and I said in unison.

He narrowed his eyes. “Uh-huh.”

I checked out the mixture she’d put in the blender. It looked disturbing, but I held my tongue. I smiled. “So I take it you like to cook?” Being cool. Pretending like I didn’t want to sweep her out of this kitchen and straight to my bed.

She laughed. “Don’t let my expertise with fruits fool you. I’m a lousy cook. On the other hand, if you like cheese puffs and Oreos, I’m your girl.”

“I love Oreos,” Spider said in a flirty tone, and she rewarded him with a smile.

“Here, peel those,” she said, tossing me an orange.

“This is going to be gross, isn’t it?” I asked as she poured ice water over the mixture.

She shook her head. “My mom used to make these when I was sick with a cold. She swore it cured whatever ailed you.”

“Yeah, because it made you sicker,” I joked.

“Funny,” she said and hit the button, turning the contents a greenish-brown. Spider pretended to throw up in his mouth.

“You see your mom often?” I asked.

She went white and her hands stilled as she lifted the blender off the base. “She’s dead. Both of my parents are.”

My chest constricted at the pain on her face. “Recently?”

She nodded, and I noticed she was gathering herself, her throat muscles working as she swallowed. And right there in the kitchen with the early morning sunlight shining through the window, V became more than just a girl I was attracted to. She was real, a person who’d seen the loss of a parent at a young age, who’d faced empty chairs at the dinner table. Like me.

I got some glasses down from the cabinet, and she divided the green stuff between us. It sloshed into the glasses with a thud.

“You know, maybe I don’t need this. I feel better all ready,” Spider said uneasily as he stared at it. I bit back a grin because his face was almost the same color as the drink. Spider might be an abrasive bastard, but his stomach was as delicate as a newborn’s.

“Drink it,” she ordered him with a smile, and for a second I thought he might resist, but he took a small test sip.

I chugged mine to the last drop. “Excellent,” I lied. No way was I going to ruin her memory of her and her mom’s thing.

She leaned over to encourage Spider, and I got antsy. Did I notice that his eyes were glued to her rack? Maybe. Did I notice that she ran her eyes over his bare chest more than once? Yeah.

I set my glass down sharply. “How’d you end up in LA?”

“Lots of reasons. Mostly to get out of New York.”

“Is that where your ex is?” I tried to sound smooth.

She blinked. “Yes.”

Good, he was thousands of miles away. I nodded. “How’s the playing coming? Any closer to getting yourself on a stage?”

Fear flickered over her face as she fiddled with her glass. “I have a job coming up, but I’m not sure I can do it.”

“Maybe you could play with us sometime?” I said. “We practice a few days a week at a studio on Melrose. You could even ride with us down there.” Dammit. Even though I didn’t mean to, I was sending mixed signals.

Spider’s eyes had widened at my offer. Girls were generally not allowed at our work sessions. I ignored his searching looks.

“I’ll think about it,” she said, but I could tell by how stiff she’d gotten that the thought terrified her. She checked her watch. “I have to go. I have an appointment later.”