Bad Cruz

I wasn’t mean.

I didn’t want to share a bed with Cruz Costello.

I didn’t trust him.

And besides, I hadn’t shared a bed with anyone in my entire life. Even my virginity had been taken on a patch of cool grass under the bleachers, peppered with weeds.

But most of all—I thought Cruz might make a move, seeing as I was the town’s favorite harlot. And I didn’t trust myself to turn him down as I obviously should.

“I know you’re awake,” he gritted out from the other side of the door.

“I am,” I said casually. “So what?”

“I’m not going to sleep outside.”

“Sure about that?” I yawned.

“Goddammit, Tennessee.”

“Don’t say God’s name in vain. He has nothing to do with this situation.”

“You’re going to pay for this.”

“Can I pay you with the same tips you give me? Because I think you should be investing in better manners now.”

Dropping my head back to a mountain of pillows, I grinned.

“Well, at least tonight you’re safe from my gonorrhea, Mr. Weiner.”

“Could’ve happened to anyone.”

Bear shrugged adamantly the next day, referring to the Cruisegate debacle—again—while we were FaceTiming.

I held my phone high in the air, drifting around my room in my hot pink bikini, over which I’d thrown a pearl caftan that looked very much like something you’d find in Victoria’s Secret’s raunchier side of the store, not the beach.

I headed over to the bathroom where I slathered my face with makeup.

“No, it couldn’t. And anyway, it didn’t happen to anyone. It happened to me.” I pouted at the mirror in front of me.

“I just don’t understand why you’d make us look so bad.” My mother, of course.

She peeped behind Bear, joined by my father, who gave me a tired grin and said, “Hi, Nessy.”

“Hope you’re being nice to Dr. Costello, pumpkin.” Mom’s voice held a note of a warning. “He’s a stand-up guy. Doesn’t deserve to be stuck in the middle of this.”

That stand-up guy told people I was his cousin and we were passing sexually transmitted diseases to one another last night—before hitting on anyone in a skirt, I wanted to scream.

Instead, I told myself that I was currently riding this jerk’s overpriced internet package talking to my family, so it wasn’t like karma didn’t get him at all.

“Yes, he knows how terribly sorry I am.” Liar, liar, pants on fire. “Where’s Trinity?”

My mother looked over to the other side of the room and winced.

Oh, goodie.

So Trinity was there and didn’t want to talk to me. Again.

I didn’t know what had happened between us, exactly.