“I know. And I love you for it.”
Chapter Eighteen
“It’s fine.” I shrugged as we walked around the house Aubrey’s parents bought to replace the one destroyed in the fire. “And it’s cheap rent.”
Aubrey’s jaw dropped. “Fine? Uh … it’s bigger than the last house and it has an infinity pool. What’s not to love?” She unpacked the new dishes. New everything.
And yes, there was a beautiful infinity pool.
My bedroom was twice the size, and I didn’t have to share a bathroom.
And it was so close to campus, I wouldn’t need to take a scooter or worry about parking my Jeep.
It just wasn’t on the same street as Wylder and Jericho. They were in walking distance if I wanted to walk five miles each way.
“It’s fine. Nice. Totally acceptable.” I loaded the new bowls she handed to me and arranged them in the dishwasher.
“Slade’s dick won’t reach quite so easily.” Missy snickered, lugging the last box into the kitchen.
“A guy? You don’t like the house because of a guy?” Aubrey’s scolding tone rose a notch.
“Dude …” I shook my head while frowning at Missy. Not because she was wrong—because she called me out on it. “I said it’s fine. That doesn’t mean I don’t like it. And for the record … his dick is pretty fucking amazing. It just might reach.”
We fell into a giggling fit. The girls drank wine. And I kept checking my phone for a message from Mr. Five-Mile-Long Dick. He’d been out of town on “business” again. Dad left earlier that morning, content with our new place and rather gleeful about the five-mile distance to the firehouse.
“You have to just ask him,” Kara grabbed my phone and started typing.
“No!” I reached for it, but she turned in circles twice before running out the back door and around the pool like a racetrack.
“Give. It. I’m not chasing you.” With my hands planted on my hips, I waited for her to do whatever destruction she felt she needed to do.
“What are you doing?” I huffed as she taunted me from the opposite side of the pool, eyes glued to my phone screen. “I don’t care if he’s home or not.”
“You do. And I want him to reply before I give it back, so you don’t send off a take-back message.”
“What did you type?”
“Wait …” She held up a finger. “He’s typing.”
“You’re a terrible person. You know that, right?”
“Oh my god! Total asshole!” She covered her mouth with her hand. Wide, blue eyes pinned me with a look of complete horror.
“WHAT. Did. You. Say?” I stomped my bare feet toward her.
“I … uh … said he needed to disclose his location so I … uh … you … could decide if he would be dicking you tonight or if someone else needed to fill in until he returned.”
Snatching the phone from her, I rolled my eyes. “Nice. Really nice.” My brow furrowed as I read his reply.
Do what you need to do.
“Wow. Okay. That’s …”
Kara cringed, lips pressed together. “Does that mean he’s doing what he needs to do? Are you two not exclusive?”
“I don’t know what we are.”
“Maybe you need to have that talk.”
“Talk,” I murmured, contemplating whether or not I should respond, let him know I didn’t send the original message. What if I had been the one to send it? “Yeah, Wylder isn’t exactly the best talker.”
“It was just a joke. Clearly. But that response …” Kara crossed her arms over her chest. “Not cool. Maybe you should find better company tonight. Show him you won’t be treated that way.”
Tucking my phone into my back pocket, I pivoted to return to the kitchen. “I’m not going to screw some other guy to make a point. Remember how well that worked for me last time? Besides … I do have better company.” I smiled over my shoulder, and she hugged me from behind.
“Girl time!”
After we finished unpacking, I forced myself to put on my best face while we grabbed dinner and stocked up on groceries. One sober and three moderately drunk college girls.
Let’s just say we bought way too much junk food. I knew green smoothie Aubrey would not be happy that I didn’t make everyone stick to our list. We put the groceries away with music blaring, wine flowing, and me missing Wylder and Jerry so bad it angered me.
Why? Why did I let him or the lack of him affect me so much?
“One glass …” Missy giggled, singing all the wrong lyrics to Blake Shelton as she held out a nearly empty bottle of wine while twirling in a circle next to the pool. Thankfully, it had a cover. I might have been able to save one drunk girl, but not three. The other two sipped more wine and stared at their phone screens from lounge chairs under strings of white and blue lights, blankets draped over their legs to keep the nip of the cool evening at bay.
“I’m good.” I grabbed the bottle from Missy before she dropped it. Then I proceeded to pick up some trash from our late-night snack attack.
“Is he a drunk? Your dad. You’ve never elaborated,” Kara murmured from her chair, chin tipped into her phone.
“No,” I returned while shoving the empty licorice bag into the empty salt and pepper potato chip bag. “He just—”
“Corbin’s coming over!” Aubrey jumped out of her chair. “Oh my god. I need to sober up. Shit …” She ran her fingers through her hair. “How do I look?” She giggled, swaying a bit. “Why? Why on my wine night? Do I smell like wine?” Lifting her arm, she sniffed her pit.
I laughed, the only one to see her odd behavior.
“Do we have to go to our rooms, Mom?” Kara snorted something like a giggle and a cough.
“Water, bae. Lots of water.” I grabbed Aubrey’s hand and led her into the kitchen.
“I’ll have a full bladder.” She reluctantly took a few sips. “Then I’ll have to pee right after we … you know. Then he’ll sneak out. He always sneaks out.”
“You won’t have to pee.” Missy swayed, making her way into the kitchen with her empty wine glass and Aubrey’s empty Pinot bottle. “Not if he gives you an orgasm.”
“Why? I’m going to pee if I orgasm?” Aubrey’s nose wrinkled, showing her lack of sexual experience and apparently her lack of orgasms.
“I hope not.” Missy chuckled. “When you climax, your body releases vasopressin, an antidiuretic hormone, which makes it hard to pee.”
“Huh …” Aubrey’s head cocked to the side. “I’ve never had that issue.”
“Poor baby.” I guided the water bottle toward her mouth. “Drink up, and if he doesn’t give you an orgasm … pee on him.”
Missy leaned against the counter, glazed-over eyes lifting to meet my gaze. I returned a tight grin, that sympathetic one for our friend who was orgasm deficient.
While Kara and Missy retired to their rooms, I made a peanut butter sandwich—knowing I’d be grateful for the extra energy when surfing early the next morning. Aubrey sobered up in the shower for Corbin, the surf shop owner whom Aubrey adored. Given the recent orgasm revelation, I couldn’t figure out why she adored him. She didn’t even surf. Maybe he was good at cuddling.