by Xavier Neal
I continue the process of ripping the sheets off, now more troubled than before. “What?”
“Stop for a sec.” My attention is pulled up to her. For a moment she just stares at me. It’s the first time I’ve noticed her eyes are brown, but unlike Maxx’s they don’t shimmer at the sight of me. At least not in the same way. “You’re in love with her.”
Uncomfortable, I play dumb. “With who?”
“The one with the glasses.”
“Yeah. And?”
A crooked smile spreads across her face as she leans against my dresser. “Oh, Kellar. It’s all fun and games as long as you were unattached, but the fact that you’re in love with someone…that changes things.”
“A little heads up?” I offer her as I flop down on the edge of my bed. “I’ve always been in love with her.”
Liz purses her lips before she nods. “I suspected it, but until now I never knew for sure…”
“How do you know now?”
“The way your voice changed when you said her name. The way you two looked at each other. The way you got pissed when I said something shitty to her in front of you. The fact that you’re changing your sheets. I put two and two together. I only play the dumb thing ‘cause guys think it’s cute.”
“It’s not cute.” I correct her.
Ladies, I know that it’s the ditsy ones that grab our attention. It’s because we wanna get laid and they’re gonna require the least amount of work. But if you haven’t noticed, those aren’t the ones we wanna keep around when the time comes. Those aren’t the ones we beat ourselves up over. Use me as a fucking example if you have to.
“Why don’t we do something we’ve never done before?” Her question causes my eyebrows to arch up. Quickly Liz shakes her head. “Oh no. Not that.”
Can’t blame a guy for thinking it.
“Talk, Kellar. Why don’t we talk?”
“Because this isn’t fucking Oprah, and I don’t feel like laying my feelings out there for the world to scrutinize.” Annoyed, I follow it up with, “I wanna hit shit and fuck. That’s all there is to my life, and that’s all there needs to be.”
Walking over, Liz plops down on the bed beside me and wraps an arm around my shoulder. “Hate to be the one to break this to you, but no it’s not.”
That’s all there used to be! Before this shit got out of hand and complicated! Before I turned into this little whiny bitch who can’t even get laid anymore. I wanna go back to the way things were. I wanna go back to when I still had Maxx in my life. Having her around at all, even if it’s just as a friend, is by far something I can cope with better than not having her at all. I should’ve played it safe. I should’ve taken a step back and kept moving, kept girls circulating in my bed. I should’ve never stood still. See. This is what happens when you’re in one place too long. Straight blow to the chest.
CHAPTER 8
MAXX
Pulling down the chocolate brown cocktail dress I squeezed myself into, I pry myself out of Luke’s car. “You do know if your sister hadn’t required me to wear this there’s no way in hell I would be wearing it right now.”
“I know,” Luke chuckles softly, fixing the collar of his white button up. “You would most likely be in a skirt and a t-shirt with a book boyfriend’s name on it.”
“What can I say? I’ve got style.”
“Is that what you call it?” Luke’s joke gets an immediate middle finger from me.
You agree with me, right? Book boyfriend shirts are totally in style. At least when you’re a nerd, which is a totally acceptable thing to be.
“This week I would be wearing a shirt that says Reno across it. He’s from this book series I just finished last night called Rain Shadow.”
Not looking entertained by my comment, he questions, “When did you have time to finish an entire book series?”
“The other day.” I avoid eye contact by fiddling with my Mario keychain that’s dangling from my purse. His red hat is actually made of real rubies. It was a Christmas present from Logan last year.
It was also the first time it had ever snowed since we’d been together. Ugh. I didn’t mean together, together. I meant since we’ve been friends. I’m not even sure we’re that anymore.
“You know…after work.”
“Hm.” Is the response I receive. “Have you spoken with your mother again?”
“Please don’t call her that.”
“Fine. With Mrs. Robinson?”
“Better.” I nod my approval. “And no.”
“Have you spoken with Logan?” Glancing away I nibble on my bottom lip. “So basically you’re telling me that over the last few days you’ve discussed nothing of importance?”
“I’ll have you know, I had a very in-depth conversation with a book friend about the emotional importance of standalone novels and ones with cliffhangers.”
“You’re such a nerd,” he whispers as we arrive outside the white brick building at the same time I see C.J., an unknown male figure, and Logan. I feel my body go rigid with just a glance at him.
This is first time I’ve seen him since I stormed out 5 days ago. That’s right. We have actively avoided seeing one another and being in each other’s presence for that long. Not too hard with me working from sun up to sun down on Frank’s special side event and burying myself in the new books I bought or the old ones that bring me comfort. I’ve gotten really good at planning my timing so that we don’t cross paths. Well that, and I have grown really accustomed to Tony’s gray leather couch. What? He lets me read on it late at night while he dicks around on the internet.
“C.J.” I greet him in a warm voice as he leans over to give me a small hug.
“Maxx,” he responds before pulling away.
After my eyes do their best not to gawk over Logan in a pair of dark jeans and black button up shirt, one of the only ones he owns might I add, they meet his blues that seem to have a hint of desolation to them.
God this sucks.
“You two aren’t even gonna speak to each other?” Luke’s parental tone gets the better of us.
Being civil I tilt my head at him. “Kellar.”
Another pained look briefly grows in his eyes.
He hates when I call him that.
“Maxx.”
C.J. clears his throat to try and break up the tension and offers an introduction. “This is my cousin Grant by the way. Grant, this is Erin’s brother Luke and her other best friend Maxx.”
Luke waves a small hello while I look over at Grant who reminds me of a discount Chris Evans. Less muscle. Less of an accent. Still cute. Extending my hand I introduce myself, “Maxx.”
“Beautiful name. Beautiful dress.” His eyes assess me.
Terrible pick up line, but the look on Logan’s face is one I’m familiar with. It’s the start of anger that he has a hard time controlling. Hm. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?
“Thanks,” I say turning slightly to the side to allow him to see the back that dips right above my bra line.
Side note, strapless bras. Not my favorite.
“I was worried about lines…” I drag the word out so he understands exactly what I’m implying. “But I guess I’m doing okay?”
“Better than okay,” Grant responds, and I hear a familiar low growl come from Logan.
I glance to see him now glaring at me.
Oh yeah. I’m doing this. Back my play! Before you go off on a rant that this is not a good idea, may I remind you about little Miss Stripper Heels earlier this week? Yeah. Okay. Like I said. I’m doing this.
With a flip of my hair over my shoulder, I innocently reply, “You’re sweet.”
Faintly, I think I hear, “You’re dead.”
Did you hear that too?
Luke shakes his head as he holds the door open, insisting the others walk through first. Once they’re past him and it’s just us he mumbles in my ear, “I hope you know what you’re doing, Maxx.”
“Rarely do I ever,” I respo
nd.
Following C.J. down to the third row from the stage in this tiny room, I notice him preparing to sit in the chair next to his cousin.
“Hey, C.J., mind if I sit on the end?”
“Sure.” He shrugs not thinking twice about it.
I purposely catch Logan’s attention and see his body stiffen all over. A ‘fuck you’ smirk is on my face when I say, “Grant…you don’t mind if I sit next to you, do you?”
“Of course not, babe. It’d be my pleasure,” he replies not seeing the viscous looks Logan is throwing at the back of his head.
Once we’re seated, waiting for the small ceremony to start, I lean back and cross my legs, allowing the dress to hike up my thigh. “You really like my dress?”
Grant gives my body, that I’m now overly displaying, another look.
Okay, so no. You know by now flirting is not high on my skills list, but that’s not the point at this moment. The point is to make Logan fucking jealous. To make him eat those fucking words he said to me about Tony, and to remind him very clearly that he’s not the only guy I can show interest in. Let’s leave out the part about me faking interest, okay? What’s that? This is petty? Well, I didn’t make the rules!
“I do. I really do.”
“Would you like it more on the floor?” The question gets an uncomfortable cough from Luke who is the barrier between Logan and Grant.
After several pats on his chest, Luke announces, “Oh thank God. It’s starting.”
Not a subtle line huh?
The ceremony is brief and quick, which is good because I can tell Logan’s nerves have calmed back down and I’m ready to fire them back up.
What can I say? His little rub in my face, with Liz ‘I can’t count to ten’ Slut Face did more than hurt my feelings. He deserves a taste of his own medicine. War cry with me! Okay, maybe not out loud…
After the graduates are dismissed, Erin meets us right outside the building and showers us all with hugs. Linking her arm with mine she compliments me loudly, “You look fantastic in this dress.”
“You should know. You picked it out.”
“I do such good work!”
“And now you’re licensed to do it.” I giggle as she rests her head on my shoulder blissfully happy.
“And now she can stop working for Frank and find a real job,” Luke grumbles.
“Don’t start,” Erin fusses in return. “It is my graduation day for Christ sake.”
Quickly he tries to apologize. “Erin, I didn’t mean—”
“I don’t care.” She pulls me in closer. “It’s hard enough that Mom and Dad aren’t here to see this day, please don’t make it worse by starting on me with that bullshit.”
A long sigh comes from him. “Erin, I—”
“Let’s get drunk.” She lifts her head up off my shoulder and wildly smirks.
Without hesitation I agree, “Done.”
Playfully looking over her shoulder at C.J. she tempts him. “You comin’?”
“Someone’s gotta drive you home.” His remark is followed by her wetting her lips seductively.
“Is that all you’re gonna drive?” She taunts, turning around now pulling her hair to one side of her face so it’s lying on top of her strapless dress.
How the fuck does she do that? No effort. Just so goddamn natural. Like a fucking flirting ninja. I wanna be a flirting ninja. Are you? Can you teach me?
“I’m right here.” Luke’s reminder causes her to chortle.
“I’m in.” Grant volunteers himself.
Logan clears his throat and speaks up. “Me too.”
“Hi-ho, hi-ho…it’s off to the club we go.” Erin starts singing and we over exaggerate our hips while we strut.
For the record, I hate these heels even more now.
***
About ten minutes later, we are nestled in a very noisy night club right next to the bar that seems to be quick about service.
If you’ve ever been to a club, you know why this is impressive and deserves mentioning.
“Shots?” Erin suggests.
“None for me, babe. Gotta drive your sexy ass home.” C.J. lowers his face closer to her ear. “Remember?”
“One won’t kill you.” She runs a hand down the front of his shirt. “But one shot of me might.”
“Shots it is!” I speak over the loud music.
Erin leans away from C.J. and says to the bartender, “I need a four shots of Patron—”
“Don’t you mean 5?” Grant speaks up from over my shoulder.
When the hell did he get that close?
“Logan doesn’t drink,” I inform him.
“That doesn’t sound like fun,” Grant quickly replies.
“That’s because Logan is fun in other ways.” The comment comes out before I have a chance to stop it.
“Damn right, baby.” he winks at me.
Shit. Screwed up there. It’s okay. It’s okay. I can rebound this. Just gotta think like Erin…Think like Erin…Think like—
“And that’s why I like you.” My eyes fall back into Grant’s as I do my best to make an innocent face. “You’re my kinda fun.”
“Can you make those doubles?” Erin insists as the bartender nods and begins filling glasses, informing us of the price that Luke quickly pays.
Turning around I don’t wait to hear a response from Logan. Once they are filled, I grab my glass and clink it with the rest in a cheers to Erin.
This shit burns. Ugh. Me and shots don’t get along. Fuck, me and alcohol don’t get along. Why can’t Erin be like me and toast with cupcakes? Or cake? Or a cake pop…have you ever had a cake pop? Love those.
The minute the glasses are back on the bar, I look at Erin. “How about another round for good measure?”
Her face lights up like the 4th of July and she squeals, “Fuck yes!”
“Bartender!” I call to him, thankful he hadn’t made it far. “We will take two more double shots—”
“Three,” Grant speaks up. “And this round is on me.
“Why thank you, my kind sir,” Erin says in a fake British accent.
The bartender fills three more glasses, takes the money, and goes to make change when Grant says, “Keep it. Plenty more where that came from.”
Aw man. He’s one of those guys? The money can buy you girls type. You know the reason guys are like that, right? Yeah. Exactly. Because they can’t spend the money to increase the size of their dicks. Shit. Did I really just say that? Is this alcohol really getting to me that quickly? Did I eat today?
“Ladies.” Grant raises his shot glass.
We cheers together, and I down the awful tasting liquor.
God, do they make any that tastes like frosting? That’s all I’m asking.
Once my glass is empty I finally look back at Logan who looks like he could burn the entire club down with the pissed off expression on his face. His mouth goes to say something when a leggy blonde, wearing something I guess she calls a dress, slides beside him. Instead of speaking to me he whispers something in her ear that makes her nod her head enthusiastically. Before I even have time to react he is whisking her off to the dance floor, his body tightly pressed against hers.
Oh fuck him. Game on!
“Let’s go dance,” I whine to Erin who is flirting with C.J. beside me.
She points at him, “But—”
“Bring him too.” My voice croaks over the music. Grabbing Grant’s hand I drag him to the dance floor without the slightest objection.
We manage to find a spot where the four of us fit leaving Luke alone at the bar to observe and report.
And yes, you’re damn right I found a spot where Logan can watch what I let Grant do to me.
Hip-hop music is blaring loud, and the rhythm is coursing through my veins right alongside the liquid courage. My body moves seductively while facing Grant, hands around his neck, hips twisting against his, tits gently grazing across his chest to the beat. He does his best to keep up but lacks the rhy
thm.
I may not get out much like this per say, but when I do, I guarantee you, I know how to move. It’s like a secret weapon I have!
For the most part, Grant is keeping his hands on my hips and occasionally moving them up my back, nothing too suggestive.
Which I want noted is irritating. I’m trying to make Logan jealous, and he’s treating me like he plans to get a date out of this. He won’t.
I spin my body around so my ass is now facing him and my eyes have a clear shot of Logan who has a girl pressed to his front, gyrating herself like some misplaced jackhammer.
Geez, I almost feel bad for him. It hurts to fucking watch.
Catching Logan’s attention, I make sure to keep it as I help Grant’s hands wrap around my stomach and slide down my thighs to the music that has switched tempos. While he does his best not to falter in his dancing, I notice that he is losing the grip he had on the trailer trash in his hands. I bite my bottom lip as I pop my ass back and Grant gives it a good grab. Logan’s entire body freezes right before I shut my eyes and toss my head back pretending to being having the time of my life.
Check. Mate.
Suddenly, I feel a sharp pain on my arm that forces my eyes open. The second my mouth goes to protest I am yanked closer to Logan as he begins marching me out of the club. In a very low authoritative voice he declares, “We need to talk.”
After a minor struggle to try and free my arm, I cave and let him continue kidnapping me.