I shrug, trying for casual and unaffected. “Huh. Okay. No work today?”
Stacia shuffles closer, seeming a little hesitant. “Uh, it’s a late day since I’m doing the makeup for the cast of a burlesque show.”
“Oh, okay, right. Good.” I shake off the lingering awkwardness. “I’m just gonna get back to—”
“Arranging your Monday morning orgy with Colton?” Her voice drips with a stinging mixture of sarcasm, uncertainty, jealousy, and disgust.
I have every intention of correcting her, but for some reason, my brain latches onto that jealousy like it’s a rope meant to lead me out of the darkness. Not to mention, she flees back upstairs before I can utter a single word.
I swallow down the dregs of my now-cold coffee. Here’s to hoping our living arrangement didn’t just become hella awkward.
Chapter Sixteen
Stacia
I race back to my room as if I’m being chased. And I am—by a little green monster called jealousy. My heart pounds as the snippet of the conversation I overheard replays in my head.
Ten women. Surely, I misunderstood, right? There’s no way he and Colton have plans to fuck ten women. That’s…it’s ludicrous.
Back in my room, I pace in front of my bed. My natural inclination is to call AJ, but I don’t. Because I know I’d sound crazy if I dialed her ranting and raving about my hotter-than-hell roomie planning a two-on-ten sex-fest. Jesus! I feel like I’ve got a few screws loose just thinking it.
I need a distraction. Something—anything to get my mind off of what I think I heard.
On instinct, I find myself researching Virtual Kitty. Apparently, it was created by someone from Mississippi, which is kind of cool. I tried searching out the owner’s name, but everything comes back to a company called Easton Incorporated. However, many websites mention that the developer was only nineteen when he launched VK. I’m pretty sure when I was nineteen, I was more concerned with boys and partying, but we can’t all be overachievers.
The more I look into this company, though, the more I feel at ease about submitting myself as a kitty. Hell, they even offer benefits for the women after a year of steady uploads. I’m pretty sure that’s not the norm in the porn industry, but what do I know?
Before I lose my nerve, I text AJ.
Me: Hey, are you free today?
AJ: Yeah…
I quickly text her my plans and ask her to meet me in two hours. Like the true ride-or-die she is, she agrees.
After a quick shower, I braid my damp hair and throw on a pair of cutoffs and an old concert T-shirt. I leave my face makeup free, knowing I’m going to need a more dramatic look later today.
I grab my purse and slowly tiptoe down the stairs, listening for West. I hate that I feel so out of sorts with him. It’s like hearing his conversation this morning gave way to a part of my brain I didn’t even know existed. And if I’m being honest, it’s not a part I like. I feel petty and insecure and jealous, and I fucking hate it.
Especially because I have zero right to feel that way. West is my friend. Nothing more. Sure, he’s the hottest guy I know. And yeah, our long-time-ago hookup left me wanting more, but I’ve always managed just fine seeing him with other women since. Maybe it’s because I’m in a dry spell? All I know is these feelings need to scram, because ain’t nobody got time for that.
Everything downstairs seems quiet, so I creep into the kitchen in search of a cold drink and something to eat. I’m bent over, rummaging through the fridge drawers, when my plans to avoid the master of the house are dashed to hell and back.
“Lookin’ good in those shorts,” West says from behind me, causing me to jump and knock my head on the shelf.
“Gah!” I yelp, rubbing the back of my head as I straighten and whirl to face him. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people.”
West cocks his head. “Wasn’t sneaking. What are you up to today?”
With my quest for food long forgotten, I shut the refrigerator door and put a little distance between us. “Hanging out with AJ,” I say, hoping he won’t ask to tag along.
“And after?” he asks.
“Um.” I don’t finish the thought. Because taking sexy pictures of myself to submit to a porn app is not something he needs to know about. “Just…stuff.”
His gaze sharpens, working over me as if he’s using X-ray vision to see all of my secrets. Thank fuck that’s not a real thing. “Okay, then, don’t tell me.”
He steps a little closer, invading my personal space, and picks up the end of my braid. “I like this.” He wraps the strands around his fist and tugs a little, and I stumble farther into him. “I like it a lot.”