“Unless you’re getting me out of them.”
Snap. My teeth ache I gnash them together so hard. “Lily.”
She shrugs, a bloom of blush coloring her cheek bones. She rotates her straw between her fingers, studies the damn thing like it holds the answers to the universe. “I’m not asking you to. I was specifying that there’s nothing for you to worry about.”
“I know there’s nothing for me to worry about.” I devour half of my burger in one bite. Chew that sucker like my life depends on it. Wash it down with a drink so thick it’s practically cement. All while I ignore the instant throbbing of my dick that accompanied the visual of me stripping her clothes off. “Is this like a friends’ night out outfit, or a date outfit?”
She laughs as she pushes a violet tress with a curl in the end behind her ear. Dainty gold bangles jangle against chunkier, colored ones on her wrist. “Don’t be silly. You know I don’t date.”
Good. Great. “Things can change.”
Her eyes widen and then narrow. “Have they changed for you?”
I humph under my breath. We should eat. Let the conversation die out. Bury it in cheese and jalapeños. “Nope.”
“So you still only screw redheads? Still calling them Julia?” She asks it like she’s asking me if it’s going to be sunny tomorrow. Like we’re discussing the latest episode of Lovecraft Country.
“Yes. And yes.” I focus on jamming the rest of my burger in my mouth. Anything would be better than having this conversation. Swallowing my last bite, I say, “Excited for L.A.?”
“More than you can believe.” She transforms as quickly as we changed topics. Lights up the way she always has when she’s excited.
It’s contagious, though I pretend that it isn’t.
“Lewis and Kiki and I will spend the next couple of months furnishing the Gladstone’s newest hotel. It’s a big project, but we’re ready for it.” She beams from ear to ear. “Carlan is going to put me in charge of my own team. I just know it.”
“That’s awesome.” You are so fucking amazing. You blow my mind with your passion and drive. Then again, she always has grabbed onto what she wants with both hands and given every inch of herself. Not relying on anyone if she didn’t have to and building her own path. It took me a little longer to reach that point. I was in college before I understood that lesson. There are few people in life that we can rely on. Hud is one of those people.
“I’m young, but I’m ambitious.” She leans forward, almost levitating out of her seat. “I’ve worked my ass off to make this happen. Lewis and Kiki have worked just as hard. And this project is going to get me that promotion.”
I pick up the ketchup bottle and shake it a couple of times before squirting a generous dollop onto our fries. “We’re all so proud of you.”
She reaches across the table and covers my hand with hers. “Of course, I’ll miss you while I’m gone. All of you. Not Hud. Lord knows he won’t stop calling long enough for me to miss him. But I’ll miss the rest of you.”
“You shouldn’t,” I say. “You should be too busy having fun along with that work to even think about us.”
“Fun isn’t a priority.” She waves my suggestion off. “What about you?”
“You know I have fun.” I stare into her eyes. Hope she doesn’t see through me.
“I was asking what is going on with you. You haven’t seemed like yourself for a while now.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I get up and toss our rubbish in the bin. There’s an irritation under my skin. An awareness that she knows me a little too well. And for some reason it makes me want to spill my guts and tell her about Jessa and my brother and the wedding.
I don’t. It’s the sort of story one buries deep, deep inside and never tells a soul. But it’s only the tip of the iceberg of what’s wrong with me these days. “What do you want to do now?”
She hops up and puts her jacket back on, tying the sash at her waist. “Want to go rollerblading?”
“Erm. No.”
“Too bad.” She fakes a pout. “It’d be such fun.”
“You should do it while you’re in L.A. Far away from me.”
“Fine. Spoilsport.” She rolls her gaze at me. “Let’s go back to yours and play Injustice.”
“What about instead we go back to yours? We can stop on the way and I’ll buy you the ice cream I promised.”
“I believe I said it was my treat,” she argues.
I take her hand and hold it near my chest. “Come on, kiddo. Give this walker-bound geriatric the pleasure of buying you an ice cream cone.”
She laughs as she tugs her hand out of my grasp. “Okay, you can buy the ice cream. I need to buy bananas anyway.”
“Bananas?” We’re much closer in age than we joke that we are, but sometimes I swear there’s no way I could keep up with her.
“Yes, I think I need the potassium.” She frowns. “My heart keeps skipping a beat.”
Damn it, if I’m not feeling it too. “I want in on that banana action.”
“Banana sundaes it is,” she says as we leave the eatery.
Chapter Nine
Lily
To misquote one of the greatest singers of the last century, banana sundaes on a Monday night while curled up on the sofa with your longtime crush and brother’s best pal playing video games is B.A.N.A.N.A.S.
My macadamia scare kind of put the kibosh on them being nuts.
Sure, it’s perfectly normal to treat ourselves to a sweet phallically shaped dessert every now and then. Everybody should. And we’ve been doing this since I was a teen when those jokes about him being an old man first started. Yes, that is on me. I was a kid. Everyone seemed so grown up compared to me back then. But that was long before I went ahead and kissed him. Oh and asked him if he wanted to see me naked. And sucked his finger like I was trying to prove I was good at blow jobs. The verdict is still out on that though.
The thing about the most utterly humiliating moments of your life is, as much as you want them to be forgotten, those suckers don’t stay buried. No, they shoot up through the leaf litter of a big night out, unfurling until you get the full, horrifying picture.
Want to know what else I did that night, besides lick mustard off his finger like some horny anime character? Took boudoir shots and tried to send them to him.
Only I hit the wrong contact, the one right below Vale’s in my phone, and sent them to a contractor I’ve used on a couple of jobs. Now Hairy Walt is sending me pictures of his banana. Which, curiously enough, is curved like one. He wants to get together. Make babies. Get married. I guess an electrician who is twice my age wouldn’t be the worst guy to find myself in a relationship with.
“Who’s texting you?” Vale’s fingers work the controller in his hand rapidly as he fires off another combo aimed at taking my character Starfire out. His knee bounces.
I love the way he gets so into the game. His competitiveness. The way his jeans snuggle his thighs. The way his fingers seem to caress those buttons so perfectly that I can’t help but imagine what they would feel like on my button. But I don’t have time to obsess about them now. It’s time to destroy him.