Kiss Me Again (Kiss Me 3)

“And let him win?” I sat up so fast that my head spun. “No way! He’s not winning!”

“He’s not,” Reagan said, smirking. “I mean, the fact he had to pamper himself in the shower after tells you all you need to know.”

Pampered himself. That was an interesting way to put it. I’d never heard a guy jerking himself off be referred to like that before.

“Look, I don’t even know if that was definitely what he was doing. It’s not like I could see through the door, is it?” I pushed my hair behind my ear. “I just assumed because, well, it was the obvious thing to do.”

Halley propped her chin up on her hand. “It fits. What are you going to do now?”

“What did you do after Preston kissed you?”

“I’m pretty sure I ran away, actually.”

Reagan smirked. “Ethan already did that.”

I sighed. This was going nowhere fast. “We have to talk about it. We live together. He’s my brother’s best friend. We have to set boundaries and stuff like that.”

“You know what’s a good boundary? A bra.”

“Shut up.”

“Ladies.” Halley held up her hands and turned to me. “You have to talk. You’re right. But I also think you owe it to yourself to not brush it under the carpet like it never happened. Clearly, he feels something for you, even if it’s just attraction.”

“She’s right.” Reagan grimaced. “I hate it when she’s right.”

I did, too.

“You both need to get to the bottom of your actual feelings about one another. You clearly don’t hate each other, at least not the way you claim to, so deal with it.”

“God, when you make sense, I know the apocalypse is coming,” I muttered to Reagan. “All right. Fine. Even if nothing happens, at least we can draw a line under it and move on.”

I slid my phone over in front of me and picked it up, ready to text Ethan. I had a new message flashing on the screen, and when I looked at it, it was from him.

“Oh. He texted already.”

“What does it say?” Halley craned her neck.

I opened it. “It says we need to talk.”

Reagan jerked her head, looking around Lucky’s.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Seeing if he’s here,” she replied. “Because that’s weird, dude.”

“Hardly,” Halley drawled, playing with her straw. “He’s obviously thinking about it. He’s older than us. He’s mature enough to know it has to be discussed.”

“Mature? The man stole one sock from every pair I own. That’s not mature.” I hit the reply box on my screen.

“No, but it’s brilliant. Like, that must be really fucking annoying,” Reagan mused. “And so random. Why would you do that to someone?”

“To passively-aggressively piss them off,” Halley said slowly. “Do you listen to a word anyone says?”

“Not when they come out of you.”

Halley elbowed her.

“It’s like putting cats in a bath,” I muttered, turning my attention to my phone.

ME: Guess so. I’m @ work til 2 but I’m off tomorrow.

ETHAN: I have to work. We can talk at lunch?

ME: That works. I can get food ready.

ETHAN: Do you think it’s a smart conversation to have in the apartment?

ME: Us having lunch in public would be weird. We’re not exactly best friends.

ETHAN: Good point. Ok. I’ll see you just after 12 tomorrow then.

ME: K. See you tomorrow.

“We’re going to talk on his lunch hour tomorrow,” I relayed to the girls.

“His lunch hour?” Reagan frowned. “What are you? Allergic to mornings?”

“Yes,” Halley muttered.

This was impossible. “Yes,” I said, echoing Halley’s answer. “But I’m here until two tonight, and he has to start work at eight. He’ll be gone before I’m awake, and since tomorrow is Friday, he’ll be here watching the game with the guys.”

“Crap. Yeah. It’s Friday tomorrow. Ugh. That means I have to put together the world’s biggest anniversary bouquet for some guy who forgot his wife’s birthday last week.” Reagan paused. “Well, he said he did, but I think he cheated on her.”

“How do you know that?”

“Roses.” She said it as if everyone should know that. “Nobody buys roses unless it’s Valentines, they’re proposing, or they screwed up real bad. This guy ordered three dozen long-stemmed red roses to be delivered to his wife’s work.”

Halley blew out a breath. “Yeah, he banged his secretary.”

You know, for someone who worked in a bar, I was not all that good at the whole reading people thing.

Drunk people? Could spot them a mile off. The girls who needed cutting off from tequila shots? Nailed it. Grandma who spikes her lemonades with gin from a hidden flask in her purse?

Well, that was Halley’s grandma, so maybe that one was pretty obvious.

Halley’s phone beeped, and she checked it. “Oh, God, she’s terrorizing the village again.”

There was only one person that could be about—her grandma. Had I summoned her?

“And she’s with Bethel. Fuck me.”

Reagan frowned. “They went to the cinema. I literally dropped them at the doors and watched them go in. What trouble could they have gotten into at the cinema?”