My heart stops working. My phone’s Bluetooth is permanently hooked up to the speaker on my kitchen counter, which I must have forgotten to turn off while I was getting ready to meet Vale for dinner. The noises coming out of it sound like a porno.
“Oh Lily. You get me so hard.”
“Holy shit.” The blood drains from my face. I pop out of my seat to get to my phone.
“I love jerking off to these photos you sent me.”
“Fucking hell,” Vales practically breathes. “What did you do?”
It’s a video. A freaking video of Hairy Walt polishing his banana. To pictures of me. I punch the stop button and it freezes mid-stroke. My stomach flip-flops. It takes a concentrated effort to exhale the carbon dioxide from my lungs and breathe in fresh air while I fight the chunks rising in my throat. “It was an accident.”
Vale snatches my phone from my hand. His thumb moves over my screen as he scrolls back through almost a week’s worth of dick pics and unsolicited messages. His thumb freezes. His eyes grow round and his nostrils flare. Those lenses he wears for playing video games and reading probably make every detail crisp. “Fuckkkk.”
It’s official. I want the kitchen tiles beneath my feet to give way to a sinkhole that will swallow me up, humiliation and all.
“You signed it ‘Lily xoxo’?” He stares at me like I’ve lost my mind.
I probably have. I might have my career ducks all in a row, but my personal life squirrels are acting like they’re on crack.
“I thought it was you.” That doesn’t make it any better. I know it doesn’t. But it’s the truth and it’s better than the possibility that I wanted to send these pictures to a stranger. I so didn’t.
His thumbs are a blur over my device as he taps out a message.
A beep alerts me that I have a new text, but instead of handing it over he pounds out another message to Hairy Walt.
Another beep.
Vale glances up from the screen to me. “You want to keep conversing with this jackass?”
“No,” I admit.
He jabs viciously at the glass several times then shoves my phone into my hand. “There. He’s blocked. I think you’re going to have to deal with the idea that he’s always going to have those pictures.”
The way he says those pictures makes me cringe. He’s disappointed in me. Upset with me for being such an idiot. Perhaps even more than I am. If I wasn’t clear that I’d made a fool of myself the other night when I admitted I wanted him, I am now.
He stalks out of the kitchen. Collects his phone and keys from my coffee table without a word. Pulls on his boots at the door before he looks at me again. “We never say a word about this to Hud.”
“Never.” It’s a vow I’d be willing to sign in blood.
“And what happened the other night.” He runs a hand through his hair and heaves out a breath. The overhead light changes the shading of the roses on his arms. Reveals a double helix and three lines of code that looks like poetry on him.
“Didn’t happen,” I say. Even though it did. Even though I wish it would happen again.
“Right.” His gaze flicks to my mouth and he swallows. “You kissed me.”
“I did.”
“It won’t happen again. You don’t still have that childish crush on me.”
“I—” Can’t seem to help it.
“You don’t,” he orders. “And I will never want you like that.”
“You’re regretting it, aren’t you?” I get the feeling he is. The way he’s looking at me… the hoarseness in his voice. I let my feet guide me nearer. “You regret not kissing me when you had a chance. I think you don’t want to, but you like me too.”
“Regretting it?” He barks out a laugh. His jaw turns sharp to go with the flash of fire in those steel orbs. “Of course I am. It shouldn’t have happened. You’re my best friend’s kid sister. Find yourself a nice guy to date, Lily. Someone who actually wants to stick around and carve out some kind of crazy, happy future with you.”
Ouch. Mother freaking ouch. He couldn’t have aimed any lower if he tried, but he’s right. People are fickle. They don’t stick. I don’t waste time on people who aren’t around for the long haul. Never have.
“Lily,” he says. “I didn’t mean—”
He might not have meant to hurt me, but he said it anyway. And if he feels that way then there’s no point in wasting one more moment thinking about him like that. I step out of his reach. “It’s okay.”
“It isn’t.”
I wince. So it isn’t okay. But that doesn’t matter. What matters is that our sticky little trio—which includes my brother—doesn’t change.
“You know I care for you, kid.” He knows exactly what to say to make it even worse. “So much. Just…”
“I need to finish packing.”
“Will I see you before you leave?” he asks, dropping his arm to his side.
“Sure.” I hold the door open for him to leave. “I’ll make sure I stop by and say goodbye.”
Chapter Ten
Vale
Violet Queen: If you could write a book, which genre would you write?
Cap’N Crunch: Coding. What about you?
Violet Queen: Oh. Definitely self-help. How to avoid douchebags and other twatwafflery.
Cap’N Crunch: Is that the title?
Violet Queen: Catchy, don’t you think?
Cap’N Crunch: I’d read it.
Violet Queen: Are you telling me you need help with twatwaffles?
I chuckle as I slip my phone into my back pocket and try to concentrate on the job in front of me. It’s Wednesday evening at Line ‘Em Up, which means it’s the beginning of the ramp up to the weekend crowds.
I serve a couple of college jocks and their girlfriends, listen to a guy complain about his wife’s mother and how he ended up in the doghouse, and blend up a jug of Panty Droppers for a group of netballers before I have a chance to glance at my phone again.
Violet Queen: Would you rather listen to this app wolf whistle at you like a drunken frat boy, or dance naked in public?
This girl is witty. Intensely smart. And what I need to keep my mind preoccupied for a while. And off Lily. Well, mostly off Lily.
Plus, I have to talk to her. It’s market research. And apparently the female market for this app isn’t a fan of what sounds like a misogynistic whistle. My bad.
Cap’N Crunch: Is the whistle that bad? I hadn’t noticed.
Violet Queen: I’d take a full star off my review based on that aspect alone.
“Well, shit.” I’ll have to look into changing it. Perhaps something like a bubble popping would be more appropriate. Like a cartoon version of a heart when it’s broken by the realization that dating usually ends in disaster.
Nope. That negativity is the reason I created this app, but it’s not the point of it. The whole set up is to get to know someone well enough to risk an emotional attachment without worrying about it coming back to bite you in the ass.
Or at least negating the risk as much as possible for most people. Considering Hud is the biggest risk to me, and my problems are all on the other side of the country, it doesn’t help me in the slightest. I tap out a response.