Chapter Twelve
As Shayler stepped away from the bar, her stomach rose and fell like she’d mistakenly put her vibrator on the highest setting. There was a rushing whoosh in her ears as a sudden anger blanketed over her. Why was she having this kind of reaction from spotting David at the bar? And why the hell was he there?
She took a detour away from her table and marched to the back corner where David sat, still gazing at her with a raised brow. “I thought you had a free night tonight for studying,” she said with more hostility than she thought she was capable of.
He shut his notebook. “Uh, yeah.”
“And you just decided to come here because you like doing that at Skeeter’s? Something about the bar atmosphere makes you think better?”
He listed his head. “The bartender’s an old friend.” He glanced over her shoulder. “The other bartender.”
“So?” She threw a hand on her hip and picked some glitter off her sparkly gold dress.
“So Ruby lets me come here and work in peace.”
“Why?” she asked. Was the punk bartender his girlfriend? Was he attracted to piercings? She touched her nose, wondering what it’d look like with a small hoop.
“We had a class together last semester, and I promised I’d help her study for the bar next year.”
Shayler blinked. “You mean she wants to be a lawyer?”
“Yeah.” His gaze roamed her face. “Sorry, why does it seem like you’re mad at me?”
She nibbled on her tongue, searching her mind for a good excuse. She could always play the drunk card, but she hardly smelled like liquor and was way too steady on her heels for it to be believable. But it wasn’t like she could confess that seeing him after swapping spit with the bartender made her feel … guilty.
“I’m not.”
“All right.” He didn’t sound convinced.
She shuffled her feet. “It’s girls’ night, and you’re not supposed to be here. I was just surprised.”
“Okay.”
They stared at each other for a while, and Shayler delighted in the opportunity to seriously check him out. Nice wasn’t her thing, so she wasn’t sure why his very presence turned her on so much. There was a manly air about him. Not college-man either, but real man—like he knew how to file taxes and what temperature a chicken should be cooked to before it was safe to eat. And that was both disgusting to her and unbelievably sexy.
“You and John then,” he said, breaking the silence.
Shayler hoped her skin wasn’t as red as it felt. “Not really.”
“You put your tongue down his throat five minutes ago, but ‘not really?’”
“I did not use my tongue. It was just a dare.” She pointed to her friends and noticed that they were intensely watching them. Great, more things she’d need to explain.
Shayler ignored the fluttering in her chest as the corners of his lips twitched. “A dare?”
“Yes. A dare. For some reason, they think I’m not fun anymore.”
“Why?”
“Because I agreed to give up my Friday nights of fun and debauchery to study.”
He grinned. “Ah. Sorry.”
His smile made her brain fizz and pop like a bowl of Rice Krispies after they’d been drowned in milk. She swallowed roughly, not sure what to say now but knowing she had to say something. Wiping her hands on the side of her dress, Shayler opened her mouth.
“I wasn’t sure if you got lost,” Rebecca said, coming up behind Shayler and draping an arm over her.
“I didn’t.” Shayler lifted her heel so that she could grind it into Rebecca’s ballet flat.
Her friend didn’t even blink. “Hi, I’m Rebecca.”
“David.”
“Nice to meet you, David.” Rebecca smiled. “How do you know Shayler?”
“He’s TA for my Crim class,” Shayler said, hoping she could stop David from saying anything else.
“Yeah, I’m the one who’s gonna be helping her study.”
“Study?” Rebecca asked, spinning her head around to stare at Shayler like she was in need of a good exorcism.
“Yup.”
“So you’re like a tutor?”
“He’s not like a tutor. He’s just … a friend helping out.” David held her gaze for a second, and her stomach felt like someone had popped a bottle of champagne inside it.
“I’m the one who’s stealing her Friday nights,” he said.
“Wait, what?” Rebecca’s grip on her shoulder tightened.
Shayler grumbled and shrugged away from her best friend. “It’s not a big deal, we’re just studying on the only night he’s free.”
“Friday night?”
David cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, I thought you knew.”
“I was gonna tell her tonight,” Shayler said. “But we have to go back now. People waiting and all that. Bye!” She tugged Rebecca’s wrist toward their table.
“It was nice meeting you, David,” Rebecca called behind her.
“Same to you.”
Shayler ran through the dictionary of curse words in her mind as they slid into the booth. Before anyone could speak, she snatched Ansley’s drink and took a big swig.
Sputtering, Shayler covered her mouth. “Ugh. Is this water?”
“You know I always alternate.”
“Good timing,” she muttered.
“You guys,” Rebecca said, getting everyone’s attention. Shayler hated that public speaking didn’t frighten her friend anymore. Pre-Orgasm Rebecca would never have had the balls to address her friends in a bar. “That hot guy over there is Shayler’s new tutor.”
“You have a tutor?” Gigi spat, soaking Shayler’s sleeve in fruity liquor.
“He’s not a tutor.”
“Right.” Rebecca flashed her toothpaste-commercial-worthy teeth at her. “He’s a friend.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
Rebecca pushed her hair behind her ear. “Ansley, I’m sure you remember the time we sat around a table here, at this very bar, while I whined about Derek.”
“Yeah. Shayler was pissed at you for it.”
“But I’m not bitching about anyone,” Shayler argued.
“You like him!” Rebecca squealed before lowering her voice. “You like like him.”
“I’m not in second grade, Becca. And I don’t fucking like him. Is he hot? Yes. Would I strip him, run my tongue over his muscles, climb onto his lap, and ride him like a stallion until we both came? Yes. But I—”
Someone tapped Shayler twice on the back. She held in a whimper and pivoted, finding David standing behind her, barely concealing his grin. “Hey. Uh, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“Yet here you are,” she managed.
“I wrote some notes down for you tonight so you could have something to check out before or during class tomorrow. Just in case.” He passed her a few pages of perfectly folded paper.
Rebecca took them out of Shayler’s hand and tucked them into her purse.
“Thanks.”
“No problem. I’ll see you later,” he said, not taking his gaze off her.
Shayler furiously tugged on a curl. “Bye, David.”
“Bye, Shayler. Shayler’s friends.” He nodded and left.
“Holy fuck balls. You’re blushing,” Gigi said once he’d disappeared into the parking lot.
“Am not,” Shayler said, fanning herself.
“I came here to get away from the lovesick bullshit,” Vivian said. “If I wanted to suffocate on sexual tension, I’d rent a Katherine Heigl movie and buy a box of chocolate.”
“Yeah, this is just as bad as watching strangers dry hump each other at the club,” Whitney agreed.
Shayler slouched in her seat and brought her knees to her chest. Accusations continued to fly as Rebecca divulged that Shayler had given up her Friday nights. It made her sick, and there wasn’t even any alcohol in her system to counteract her nerves.
Everything was fine, she told herself. I
t didn’t matter if her friends thought she liked David. She knew the truth. And so what if he’d heard the dirty things she wanted to do to him? It wasn’t as if she’d been subtle about it before. This was no big deal. So why the fuck did it feel like a sumo wrestler was sitting on her chest, cutting off her air supply?
“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” she stated, standing and briskly walking to the restroom.
She hit the door open with her elbow and turned on a sink. Her skin was blotchy, making her complexion look like a case of spray-tan-gone-bad. Her curls were looking droopy, even though she’d spritzed them with extra curl spray before they’d left. She took a deep breath, but it didn’t reach her lungs. She tried again. This was a new feeling and not a good one. She stuck her hands under the running faucet and wished she could wash it away along with the sticky residue she’d gotten on her hands from touching the bar earlier.
“Hey, are you all right?” Ansley asked, peering into the bathroom before coming up to Shayler.
“Everyone keeps asking me that. I’m fine,” she said, wiping her neck with one of those brown paper towels that were more scratchy than absorbent.
“You know we’re only teasing you, right?”
Shayler leaned on the sink. She could’ve nodded, ended the conversation, and walked back to their booth. But something ate at her insides, and Ansley looked eager to listen. “He turned me down. The first time I saw him, I hit on him. Straight forward, no bull, and he turned me down. And now he wants to be friends. I don’t … I’m not okay. This whole thing is fucking with my brain.”
Ansley snorted. “That’s what men do, but you don’t have to be friends with him. What do you want?”
“I don’t know. Sex?”
“Can I be honest with you?”
“Are you ever?” Shayler teased, but in that instant, she knew she’d gotten it right. Ansley’s face went pure white, and she started to pick the purple polish off her nails.
“Ha-ha. I think you like him. Not like Rebecca thinks, but as a friend. And it surprises you because you don’t have guy friends.”
“That’s what I told him.”
Ansley’s nose twitched. “There’s a first time for everything.”
“Yes. Like my dry spell, which is a little too literal right now.”
This time, the blonde cracked a full-on grin. Shayler cursed, surprised by how breathtaking it made Ansley look. She’d never noticed the gloom and darkness that settled over the blonde until that moment. If only Ansley would get rid of that hard outer shell. Wise, sarcastic, and drop-dead gorgeous? No one would stand a chance against her.
“Why aren’t you having sex?”
“I’m trying,” Shayler whined. “No one wants me.”
“Come on.”
“I’m serious. I’ve tried everything.”
Ansley rolled her eyes and held her arms tightly to her body. “The bartender out there seemed pretty willing.”
“He was greasy.”
“I’m sure there have been others.”
Shayler thought about it. “My professor has fun eye-fucking me.”
“What’s wrong with him?”
“He’s sleazy. I think he thinks I’m dumb.”
“I think…” Ansley paused. “I think you might want something more.”
Shayler cackled. “More? As in what?”
“As in more than some random fuck buddy.”
Shayler opened her mouth to laugh again when it snapped shut. Was she growing soft, turning into Rebecca who would get a ring and get married and buy a house and have babies with her college sweetheart? Her stomach growled, a short threat. She gripped her stomach, waiting for vomit to splatter against the bathroom walls like she was in an adult cartoon. It didn’t.
Ansley ran a hand over her flattened ballerina bun. “Do you want to know what I’m most ashamed of?”
“What?”
“Being afraid.”
Stunned, Shayler shook her head. “What are you afraid of?”
Ansley’s lips curved into a sad smile. “I don’t know, but you shouldn’t let your fear be what holds you back, you know? Don’t let it take over your life.”
Ansley shook her head and glided through the open door, leaving Shayler standing next to the rusted sinks alone. She stared at her reflection, digging her fingers into her hip. Shayler wasn’t scared of anything. Her entire personality revolved around being fearless, fun, and carefree. So why did Ansley suddenly have her questioning all of that?
Chapter Thirteen
When Shayler had been tearing apart her bedroom, looking for something acceptable to wear for her Friday afternoon class, she’d decided that nothing she owned would do. Her new mission was to prove to Hale that she was smart and respectable, and for that, she’d need someone who was actually those things. Well, someone who was more those things than her.
“Hey,” she said, opening Rebecca’s door and startling her best friend who was curled up on the couch with her boyfriend.
“Shayler!” Rebecca pulled her nightie over her knees and smacked Derek away from her. “What’re you doing here?”
“I need help,” Shayler said, tossing an old Hollister tote onto Rebecca’s kitchen counter.
Rebecca frowned. “It’s ten in the morning on a Friday. Are you okay?”
“It’s not like I’m hungover, is it?” Shayler said, still sour that they’d left the bar before eleven, none of them even near drunk. Well, aside from Gigi.
Rebecca sighed and used Derek’s bare stomach to push herself up. He didn’t have the decency to cover himself after, just stayed in the same place like he was waiting for her to lie back down with him. Shayler scoffed, couples were so gross.
“What do you need?” Rebecca asked as they made their way to her room.
“I have that class today, and I want to look smart.”
“Wait … are you coming to me for fashion advice?” Rebecca giggled, reaching for the handle to her closet. “You hate all of my clothes.”
“They’re not optimal for getting laid, but I don’t care about that. Today, I need to prove I’m not just an awesome pair of boobs.”
Rebecca flushed. “I’m sure your professor doesn’t really think that.”
“He said I couldn’t handle an intro class. Intro class, Becca. I got an A in Organic Chem.”
“You copied off of Ken.”
Shayler clicked her tongue, not wanting to delve into the actualities of her grades. If Rebecca knew that all Shayler had used Ken for were notes, she’d start thinking Shayler was super smart, and Shayler would never live it down. People would start talking to her like she was a nerd, would stop asking what she did last night and start asking what her plans for the future were.
“I’m not sure I can help,” Rebecca said, assessing Shayler’s tight yoga pants and matching sweater.
“Just give me something you would wear. Also, I need to borrow some stuff. Notebooks. Highlighters. Those little tab things that go in a binder. Oh, and a binder.”
Rebecca grinned, walked to her desk, and pulled open the bottom drawer. It was littered with school supplies. “I always hoped this day would come. Take what you need.”
“You’re so weird.”
“I know.” Rebecca took out a few hangers from her closet. “Here you go. You can change in the bathr—”
Shayler whipped off her top and pants and jumped into a baggy pair of beige khakis. “Too long.”
“Just roll them up.” Rebecca let out another sigh before kneeling and rolling the fabric up carefully. “I don’t need you wrinkling them.”
Shayler held the white blouse to her stomach, wondering how the airy style would look on her. She hoped it wouldn’t completely hide her curves. Suddenly, Rebecca’s door opened, and Derek stood in the threshold.
“Interesting.”
Rebecca rolled her eyes. “What do you need?”
“I was gonna ask if you wanted me to make a donut run, but I think I’d rather stay.”
Shayler snorted as her friend’s hands balled into fists. “Don’t be gross,” Rebecca said. “Now you owe me two jelly-filled.”
“Not this again. I told you, I don’t want those heinous things touching my glazed donuts.”
“Then you shouldn’t be a pervert.”
“Jelly doesn’t belong in a donut,” Derek argued, running a hand through his hair. “It goes in a sandwich or on a biscuit. Not a damned donut.”
“The longer you stand here debating this in front of my half-naked best friend, the more jelly donuts you’ll have to buy. And eat.”
“Hey.” He raised his hands. “I wasn’t checking her out. I was more interested in the sight of you on your knees.”
Shayler couldn’t help but giggle, watching as Rebecca stood and grabbed a pillow from her bed, launching it at his head. “Out!” Her hand closed around the door, and she gave him a quick peck before shoving it in his face.
“Who knew you could be so naughty, Becca?” Shayler teased as she buttoned the top and tied it at the bottom.
“I… I didn’t say it, he did. And that doesn’t mean I’m naughty. Okay, so sometimes we have phone sex and sext, and once I talked dirty during, but that doesn’t mean I’m naughty. He … he just… It’s his fault.”
“Relax, whore. I’m not judging.” Shayler smiled, happy when her best friend copied the action. It was nice to see Rebecca so free. “Now, how do I look?”
Shayler spun around, showing off the finished outfit after she’d stepped into a pair of tan wedges she’d left at Rebecca’s the year before.
“Honestly? You kind of look slutty still.”
“Slutty?”
“You know what I mean.”
Shayler checked herself in the mirror and regretfully agreed. The shirt had to be tied or else she’d swim in it, but it really just emphasized her waist. The pants didn’t do much, but since they were cuffed, they looked almost fashionable—especially paired with the boho wedges and gold necklace she’d clasped around her neck.
“It’s better,” she exclaimed. “You don’t happen to own a pair of fake glasses though, do you?”
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