Bad Wolf (Wild Men 4)

“Because they’re true?” She grins at me. “Come on, Gigi. You had a mega crush on the guy, admit it.”

Maybe so, but I shake my head stubbornly. “I was a kid.”

“Hardly. Three years ago, Gigi. Just three years.”

Yeah, I know, okay? Jeez. “Can we please drop the topic of the crush I never had on Jarett, and focus on what he did?”

She chokes on laughter—and cake. When she can breathe again, she wipes at her mouth with her fingers and sighs. “Sure. For now.”

I shoot her a glare. She knows I haven’t forgiven her for the other night, right? That this is a truce, but that eventually we will be talking about that night? “Great.”

“So, let me see if I understood exactly what happened: at the club, he saved you from his brother’s slimy advances, helped you when you felt dizzy, and then the next time you saw him… he was an asshole to you?”

I shiver. “Not just an asshole, Syd. He pretended not to know me.”

“Man. That’s a dickish move.”

“You think?” I frown down at my destroyed piece of cake, my heart slamming painfully in my chest. It shouldn’t hurt so bad. “I mean, if it was just a random guy I talked to at a bar… but I used to know Jarett. He used to know me, too. We talked a lot.”

Well, I talked a lot.

Details.

“He behaved like a douche.” She sits up, tucks red curls behind her ears, and her golden hoops catch the light. “Wait a minute. Was he alone the second time you met?”

“Nah, he was with some buddies of his. Why?”

“Peacocking,” she says with a straight face.

She can do that, say stuff like that all serious.

I guffaw. “What?”

“How guys behave in front of their guy friends. Peacocking. Showing off how macho and tough they are, and trying to impress women.”

“You’re making that up.”

“Psychology 101, baby. It’s legit.”

“Well, the move didn’t work on me. Obviously.” I set my plate aside, my appetite all gone. “Besides, I doubt peacocking means you get to pretend not to know the girl you’re supposedly trying to impress. That makes no sense.”

She waves a hand back and forth. “It doesn’t matter. What I meant is that he was probably acting differently because his friends were there. He was trying to seem, I dunno, tough and with chicks hanging off him, so many he can’t even recall their faces… know what I mean?”

Yeah, a picture is starting to form, and my mouth twists in disgust. “You’re saying he’s a manwhore. And an asshole, if he turns into such a douchebag for his friends.”

And my heart hurts, because I’d been so happy to see him again, to see he was okay, that he was still in town.

“You never said… why you never kept in touch with him after you moved?” Sydney is observing me as she twists a section of her hair into a tiny braid.

I shake my head. “Before we moved… we had a fight. He’d been in a mood, and… he told me not to talk to him again.”

She hisses. “So being an asshole isn’t something new for him.”

“It was new to me. And later I tried calling him, finding him, despite what he said, but his Facebook and Instagram accounts were turned off. His number wasn’t available, as if he’d changed it. And when I finally decided to go look for him, the house was up for rent.”

“That’s weird. So suddenly?”

“Yeah, just like that.” I tug on my knee-high socks. These ones are black with white skulls at the top. I love my knee-high socks. “Like the dinosaurs. You know… a meteor hit, and poof. Wiped out. Gone.”