“You mean someone around six foot three, black hair, laser-blue eyes?”
My stomach jumps. He so did look like that.
“Um, there wasn’t any greasy hair involved, was there?” I’m almost afraid to ask.
“No.” Her eyes widen just before she dives into the fridge and plucks out the eggs. “And, no he’s not here. It’s just you and me.” She gives a quick wink before yanking a pan out and firing up the stove.
I blindly take a seat at the table.
“He was cute and sweet and helped me home, sort of. He even offered me an out before he impaled me with his impossibly perfect body, but then he just up and left.”
“That’s why they’re called one-night stands,” Tess shouts over the sizzle in the pan. “Don’t get all weepy-eyed because he didn’t write you a poem and leave you a roadmap to his apartment. He was simply following the rules.”
“Rules?” This is the very reason I should never have listened to Tess in the first place. Deep down I knew I wanted something more from him. I’m stupid that way and apparently hardwired to believe in sappy, happy endings. I guess it turns out saviors in blue jeans aren’t my destiny. Nope, for the rest of the summer I’m going to be living with Derek and his pot-smoking girlfriend in their not-so-comfy RV while I save for a place. That’s my destiny.
Okay, don’t panic. It’s only until September and then I’ll go around and beg all the sororities to take me in. It’s not like I’ll be homeless. Plus the savings will help me buy a killer gift for Ruby. Last year I thought I’d buy her something nice to wear from the Gap and scored two sundresses from the clearance rack, but Ruby didn’t even glance at them. She was too busy trying to ride the Sit ’n Spin she had just unwrapped from someone else. I got the message loud and clear: toys rule, clothes drool.
I migrate over to the couch and catch a glimpse of a few crumpled bills lying on the coffee table, my panties and bra just beneath them.
Holy shit.
“What’s this?” I lean over and inspect the sixteen dollars like I’ve never seen US currency before.
“Looks like he left you a tip.” Tess leans over the counter and bites down a smile.
He didn’t.
He couldn’t.
I mean, that would make me a…
A strangled scream erupts from my throat.
Good God. I think I just turned my first trick.
Resentful and angry are not two good ways to drive.
I nearly mow down an entire herd of Pretty Girls as I careen out of the parking lot on my way to Starbucks. I need to ask to get off before three to clear my crap from Russell Hall, and it always works better if I’m not late while begging to be let off early. I’m more than bummed I’m not at Russell now to experience all the fun. It’s officially moving day, and everyone is excited to get summer under way. All week the dorm has been buzzing with talks of summer vacays to Europe, the Hamptons, private islands with five-star chefs held captive for my dorm sisters’ nutritional benefits. And what do I have to look forward to? At the rate I’m going, an entire array of STDs. Oh, and that tiny detail of having no actual home in which to enjoy said STDs. Ironic since Russell Hall will be empty as a haunted house. Nevertheless, I’ll be joining the ranks at the U-Haul rental station later this afternoon.
I sent a 911 text to Lauren and Kendall before I left Tess. Who better to man-bash with than two women who’ve been stung by cupid’s crooked arrow? Oh, who am I kidding? The only one getting screwed sideways by that demonic cherub is me. Both Lauren and Kendall are engaged. It’s just me who wants to commit mass penile decapitation. And there’s no coincidence about the fact I’d love for my hacking spree to begin with every man misfortunate enough to have the name Morgan. It’s probably not even his real name. Sleazeballs like him are forever changing their aliases, making women believe they’re astronauts and brain surgeons, only to have their license to lie revoked once the FBI takes them down in a sting operation. Of course, by the time the Feds get involved there are already an entire bevy of dumbasses like me left in his wake.
I take up two parking spaces and breeze inside like I’m going to hold up the place.
Penelope waves at me from behind the counter. She’s a sophomore who sounds like a squirrel and perhaps the only natural blonde on the planet I know. In my haste to spew my disdain for all things testosterone I breeze past her. I’ll make it up to her later. She’s forever asking to swap hours and days, and no matter how hard management tries to shuffle her around, she’s never content with the schedule. And if they hadn’t cut my hours to nil I would never be in this psychotic mood to begin with. I completely blame last night’s fiasco on my supervisor. That entire default to one-night-stand mode was nothing short of her doing for forcing me to seek employment elsewhere.
“Get over here, girl!” Lauren springs to her feet, and her hair bobs around her ears. She’s been my roommate for the past year and like a sister since I’ve been at Garrison—better than my actual sister because she’s never landed me as the not-so-star attraction of a peep show. Although unlike Tess, she doesn’t know every little bit about me. Not that I’m deliberately keeping anything from her, it’s just that I find some things unnecessary to bring up, like the truth about Ruby’s father, and my recent stint at Pretty Girls. God, if Lauren knew I bared my assets in front of dozens of inebriated sausage slingers, and that they all but saluted me with their swords of flesh—she’d fashion a noose out of her copy of The Feminine Mystique and kick out the chair herself. Nevertheless, I miss her as a roommate—especially since she’s taking her designer closet with her. Of course, Garrison offered to find me a replacement roommate come fall, but the truth is Lauren paid for the dorm in its entirety, so there’s that.
I offer her a brief hug and do the same with Kendall. Kendall is far too gorgeous to comprehend with her dark hair and bionic-blue eyes—sort of like the douche I had the misfortune of sleeping with last night.
“What happened?” Lauren coaxes me into the seat between them. “Is this about a boy?” She’s already ordered a drink for me, an iced hazelnut macchiato, soy, easy ice, no whipped cream. Only a true friend can order your drink just right.
“Oh, I don’t think he qualifies.” I slump into my seat. “Tess gave me some advice,” I start heroically, and then think twice before revealing any more about my poor judgment last night. It’s not like I’m going to mention anything about Pretty Girls, or the fact that US currency changed hands at the end of a long disastrous night during which my questionable services were employed.
“Tess gave you advice?” Lauren looks as if someone just swiped her Prada bag. “And you took it?”
“She’s my sister.” Not that I’m proud at the moment. “It’s not my fault she’s prone to dicey advice.” Among other things.
Lauren cuts me with a look that could slice steel cables. “Her stripper name is Fan-tessy and she runs a quasi-escort service.” She wastes no time filling Kendall in on all the fun little deets. Sure, they’re all true, but they sound so much worse coming from a pair of perfectly glossed Stila lips.
Kendall’s mouth falls open and appropriately so because for one, she’s sane.
“Anyway”—I clear my throat—“I met this guy…um, while visiting my sister.” I lower my lashes and my cheeks burn with heat. “It was stupid. He was far too gorgeous, which should have been my first red flag. But I didn’t stand a chance. I brought him back, and we did it. He left before I got up this morning. End of story.” It all sounds so vanilla now that I’ve pushed it through my vocal cords.
“Oh, hon, is that what’s got you so upset?” Lauren wraps an arm around my shoulder. “That was just your run-of-the-mill one-night stand. It’s your first—”
I cut her off. “And my last. Believe me, there was nothing run-of-the-mill about this guy.” Then again that bottle of champagne could have played a part in my exaltation of hi
m and his baseball bat. “It’s not happening again.” But if those dimples go off I might just be tempted to melt into one. “He’s an ass of the highest order.” A perfectly rock-hard ass, but still, he’s nothing but a double negative. “Jerks like him eat decent people like me for breakfast.” Or, as evidenced by his sudden urge to partake of the first meal of the day elsewhere, maybe not. “I swear I’ll knife his balls off if we ever meet again.”
Kendall and Lauren gape at me as if I’ve already committed the lewd felony.
“Don’t just sit there,” I say, incredulous at their sudden urge to plead the fifth. “Raise your coffee and say something encouraging.” I grip my cup so tightly my fingers turn white.
“You’ll find someone else.” Lauren touches her hand to mine with her dime-store consolation. “Someone special.” She nods with an equally false sense of assurance.
“And he’ll be Mr. Right,” Lauren adds. If I didn’t know better I’d swear she was mocking me.
“Easy for you to say. You’ve got Cal”—I look to Kendall—“and you’ve got Cruise. And I’ve got nobody, per usual.” I sink in my seat, and my vagina lights up with the remnants of last night’s grand slam that held all the magical ingredients of a happily ever after, minus the love and genuine affection, and the general knowledge of his surname. “And, I’ve got to move today.” It comes out pissy as if this, too, were somehow his fault. “There’s nothing like moving to magnify the fact you don’t have a strong pair of arms to call your own.”
“I’m so sorry, Ally.” Kendall combs out her long, black bangs with her fingers. “Not all guys are assholes. I swear to you there are a ton of great ones out there.” Her shoulders droop before she springs back to life. “Look, my brother just came into town and he’s dying to check this place out. Why don’t we help you move and if you like, you can show him around? I’d really appreciate it, and I know he would too. I’d show him around myself, but I can tell he’s already itching to get away from me and Cruise.”
“I don’t know.” I shake my head at the idea. “I’m sort of allergic to blind dates in general.”
“It’s not a date.” Lauren smacks me in the arm. “He’s going to help you move, and you can take him to dinner as a thank-you.”
Kendall nods a little too eagerly.
“Okay. But I have to warn you I have a long-standing track record of not falling for my friends’ brothers. No offense. I’m sure he’s great and all, but I’m gun shy when it comes to next of kin.” It’s a certified fact there is no quicker way to kill a friendship.
“I promise—you’re going to love him!” Kendall beams at the thought of playing matchmaker. “He’s totally fabulous.”
Odd how she’s undeterred by the fact I’ve got a seed of vengeance blooming in my heart for anyone slinging a procreation device between his legs. And, unless he rids himself of his miniature tail, he’ll be a guest on my “shit list” for the interim or at least until my anger for an entire gender subsides—and judging by the knot in my stomach, that would be never.
After a brief stint at the Bux, I return to Russell Hall and endure hours of playing throw everything you own into garbage bags, plus sixteen boxes. Where the hell did all this crap come from anyway?
My phone buzzes. It’s a text from Kendall.
Downstairs!
Perfect. That means her brother is here. My stomach pinches at the thought of meeting up with another card-carrying member of the Trouser-Snake Society. I’ve been in a pissy mood ever since Dr. Morgan-Douche decided to check me for a fever with his own personal dipstick, then made a run for the border like some kind of carnal convict.
I take the elevator down to meet with Cruise, Kendall, and her oh-so-fab big brother. I spent the majority of the afternoon hauling all the little boxes down and playing a real-life version of Tetris in the trunk of my Honda, but Kendall made me promise to leave all the heavier boxes for Cruise and her big bro. The dorm came furnished so there’s that.
It’s already warm for June, which is a nice change of pace since I don’t usually feel like putting on anything summery until well after the Fourth. But in honor of my newly declared male fast I decide to torment the opposite sex by looking as cute as humanly possible. I hope to drive entire droves of sexed-up frat boys insane with my barely there Daisy Dukes, my add-a-size Bombshell bra paired with the designer wifebeater left by Lauren. When she moved out, half my closet moved out with her—the better half.
Anyway, I called Derek and warned him of my impending arrival. He said dinner involved a big greasy bucket from the Colonel, and me delivering it, so I guess that means I’m buying. We really didn’t discuss rent, so I’m assuming endless trips to any and every fast-food locale within driving distance will be my major contribution—that and cleaning. Derek and his girlfriend Raya aren’t too keen on that whole hygiene thing. You’d think their humble RV was a getaway resort for the local rodent population the way they gathered around the vicinity in herds. And Raya doesn’t help the situation by setting out a five-star buffet for them in her bevy of birdfeeders. I keep telling them the last thing those rat cafes see are winged creatures, but they’re the first to call bullshit on just about anything that flies from my mouth ever since “I’ve done got myself an edjamacation.” Everything in me sighs at the thought of what a long, drawn-out summer this is going to be.
The elevator doors open, and I hurry outside. The air is thick and muggy, already perfumed with the familiar scents of summer: suntan lotion mixing with the evergreens.
Kendall stands next to a large white pickup, waving like she hasn’t seen me in months, so I wave back and freeze with my hand in the air like I’m about to swat someone and honest to God I just might.
“Holy shit,” I hiss under my breath. It’s the dark knight from last night’s romp and stomp. He’s sporting a goofy grin that melts off his face faster than a glacier in hell, and that’s exactly where I’m about to send him.
Crap. He’s going to ruin everything. Here Kendall was nice enough to show up with her better half and her brother…
Oh, no. Oh, God.
Everything in me freezes.
Shit, shit, shit.
“Ally!” Kendall bounds over and drags me to the ebony-haired Adonis. His lips twitch a devilish grin and his dimples press in deep.
Just fuck.
“Ally, this is my brother, Morgan.” My stomach clenches when she says his name. “And Morgan, this is my good friend, Ally.”
Here it is. That awkward moment when you want to gouge out your best friend’s brother’s eyes, and perhaps a few other unnecessary appendages.
Our eyes lock. Kendall, Cruise, and all of Garrison disappear for a moment, and I’m left contemplating a homicide with nothing more than the nail file I stuck in my pocket an hour ago.
“Hello, Morgan.” I draw my weapon first. It comes from me a little more aggressively than necessary but I figure I should set the tone for this, the next leg of our nonexistent relationship. “Who I have never met before.” I shake his hand like a threat. So help me God if he spews the inglorious details of our little carnal cash exchange right here in the parking lot in front of his blood relation, and the meandering ears of my dorm sisters, I might be moved to perform a spontaneous castration with my teeth.
I cringe a little at the idea because I distinctly remember something of that nature occurring before I blacked out.
“Nice to meet you, Ally.” He leans in with his seductive gaze, a smile playing on his lips but he’s too cocky to give it. “Who I have never met before.” He drips the words with sarcasm, and it makes both Kendall and Cruise sit up at attention. I glare over at the two of them and they’re quick to duck into the safety of Russell Hall.
“It’s you!” It rips from me like the expletive it is.
His brows rise. His chest vibrates with a silent laugh as if he’s indignant at how unimpressed I am with
his tightwad ass.
“Sixteen dollars?” I hiss, just this side of tears.
“Sixteen dollars?” He moves in close. “You have my sixteen bucks?”
My eyes widen. What the hell? Does he honest to God think I’ve got a pimp in the mix? I bet he gave it to Dell. It’s obvious he’s done this before and is up to date on the protocol.
He holds out his hand like he’s expecting something.
“I want my sixteen dollars back.” His lips pull into a line and my mouth drops open because swear to God if he’s not shitting me there’s going to be a knifing.
A group of girls from Alpha Chi stroll by in their matching luau wear and rainbow-colored leis. Two of the girls crane their necks to get a better look at my john.
“Oh. My. God.” It takes every ounce of self-control not to snatch a neighboring lei and strangle this dipshit—the symbolism alone would be worth the prison sentence. “Are you asking for a refund?” It comes from me smooth, and surprisingly restrained.
“A refund?” He pushes in with those storm-colored eyes. “You thought I paid for sex?”
“Shh!” I dance around in a fit of delirium. “I refuse to discuss last night’s brain malfunction out in the open. Prostitution is illegal, by the way. And, yes”—I give a wild-eyed stare—“you left sixteen lousy bucks! What’s the matter? All out of pocket change?”
“I’m confused.” He holds out his hands in surrender, and his chest expands to the size of a refrigerator. “I’m a guy. I’m not the brightest. I don’t attend Garrison.” He says Garrison with insulting air quotes that only douchebags use to mock institutions of higher learning. “Are you saying I shouldn’t have left the money? Or that I didn’t leave enough?”
A choking sound emits from my throat because, damn it all to hell, he’s guilty of both charges. My entire body goes rigid. There are so many insults storming my vocal cords I’m literally gagging.
“Ally?” Kendall pops up from behind lugging a giant box. “I’ll just put this in the back of his truck since your car is full.” She gives a little wink.
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