“Wine foul!” Emma jumps up from the loveseat, darts to the kitchen, and flies back with a wad of paper towels.
“Not going there,” I say to Liz with resolve. The woman’s known me for over two years. She should realize casual sex is not in my vocabulary.
Liz takes a paper towels from Emma and helps mop up the mess. “Hear me out before you can my idea.”
I don’t have a choice. If I try to escape, Liz will just follow, so I fill my glass, set the bottle on the coffee table, and sit while taking a big gulp of wine. With a conversation like this, drinking is no longer optional. When she pauses Gossip Girl, I know I’m in for a long conversation.
“You don’t plan to get into another relationship for a while—”
“Ever,” I say. “Repeat after me. ‘My best friend Cassie is never getting into another relationship.’”
“I thought you were waiting until you graduate to date,” Hannah says.
“Same difference,” I say. Two years is a long time to go without sex.
“Whatever,” Liz says. “My point is, a vibrator’s a poor substitute for a man. I’m sure you’ve figured that out already.”
Unfortunately I have, but I keep that to myself.
“So eventually some hottie’s going to come up to you—”
“Like Josh!” Hannah interjects.
Liz cringes. “Yeah, like Josh. If beefhead is your thing.”
“Totally not my thing.” I don’t want to give Hannah any ideas. She’s known to go a little crazy with her ninja matchmaking skills.
“Anyway,” Liz continues, “one day soon, a hottie you can’t refuse is going to make eyes at you. Someone like Mr. Westbrook.”
Just the thought of my teacher giving me bedroom eyes makes my throat dry. I take another gulp of wine.
“You haven’t had a good lay in months,” Liz says. “You’re gonna be all horny, and bam, you’ll end up in his bed. Then he’ll stalk you all semester because, let’s face it, Cassie, you’re a goddess.”
I snort loudly. If I’m a goddess, Wyatt wouldn’t have left me for Debbie Dill Weed. “I have self-control, Liz.”
“Yeah, but for how long?”
“F-O-R-E-V-E-R.” I spell out the word in case she’s confused about my plan to never have sex with another guy.
“W-H-A-T-E-V-E-R.” She spells out the word in case I’m confused about her not caring. “All in favor of Cassie having a fuck buddy, raise your hand.”
Emma and Liz lift their hands high, but I’m pleased to see Hannah agrees with me.
I glare at Emma. “Traitor.”
She shrugs. “What? I think Liz might be on to something. Do you remember Mica?”
We all sigh. Mica graduated last year, and he took with him the most stunning face and fierce body in all of Texas. I swear, at graduation, every girl, gay guy, and female professor sobbed when he walked across the stage because they knew they’d never behold his beauty again.
Liz wipes a pretend tear from her eye. “I used to stake out his psychology class so I could see him on Tuesday and Thursday mornings. I miss him so much.”
“Kara Black was his fuck buddy,” Emma says.
Hannah chokes on her wine. She gurgles and sputters until Emma jumps from the love seat and whacks her on the back.
“You okay?” Emma asks.
Hannah shakes her head.
“I don’t think any of us are okay,” Liz says. “How in the hell was Kara his fuck buddy? No offense, Cassie, but he might even be out of your league. There is no way in hell Kara got some of that.”
“I swear it’s true.” Emma sits back down with one leg tucked beneath her. “I even saw them making out behind Billy Bob’s Bar.”
“Wow!” Hannah says, recovering from her shock. “Kara isn’t ugly, but she’s flatter than a cookie sheet, and her buck teeth make her look like a beaver if she’s standing at the right angle.” The little crease between her eyebrows deepens. “Okay, I take it back. She is ugly. Or maybe just fugly.”
“Hannah!” I cry. “That’s mean.” I can’t help but wonder if this is what people thought of me and Wyatt—that he was too good for me. The notion makes sick.
Liz chuckles. “Mean but true.”
“She has great hair,” Hannah says, obviously backpedaling. “And her eyes are a pretty green.”
“Isn’t fugly worse than ugly?” Emma asks.
“I don’t think so,” Hannah says. “I saw a special on fugly celebrities, and John Mayer was on the list. He’s cute in a weird way, so fugly can’t be that bad.”
“It means fucking ugly,” Liz says.
Hannah cringes. “Oh! I didn’t mean fugly then. I meant minorly unattractive.”
“Is minorly even a word?” Emma asks.
I know I’ll regret this, but I have to get Emma back on track—I’m officially tired of this conversation. “Where are you going with this whole Mica thing, Emma?”
“It’s common knowledge a fuck buddy can be way out of your league.” She beams at me and holds her glass up as if making a toast. “You, Cassie Faye, could have any guy you want.”
Liz’s raises her goblet in agreement. “Good call, Emma!” She turns her attention to me. “You could have Long Dong Peter! He’s hot, and he’s got a really big—”
I hold my hand up to stop her. “Enough!”
Being a part of a sorority at Vandeveer is a strange mix of socially prim on the outside and sexually free on the inside. There’s a secret sorority code that states we can talk about sex all we want as long as we’re gabbing to another sorority member. Heaven forbid somebody outside of our sorority hears us. Sometimes I think we should keep it clean on the inside too, but that’s obviously not happening today.
Emma claps. “Let’s make a list of fuck buddy candidates for Cassie!”
Liz is off the couch and heading for her room before I can protest, and Hannah’s clapping right along with Emma.
“This’ll be fun!” Hannah says.
“I thought you were on my side?” I groan.
She shrugs. “I don’t expect you to actually go through with it.”
Liz comes back with a small dry-erase board and a marker. She plops back down next to me and writes, CASSIE’S FUCK BUDDY LIST.
“Wait,” Hannah says. “Can we come up with another name besides f—” She puckers her lips. “It’s too crude to even say. Maybe love buddy?”
“There’s no love happening in a fuck buddy relationship,” Liz says.
“Well, pick something else.”
“Lust buddy?” Emma provides.
“I don’t like it. Still too crude.”
“Copulation buddy?” Liz says, rolling her eyes.
Emma shakes her head. “They’re not making a baby.”
“Hug buddy!” Hannah says. “It’s cute.”
Liz’s eyebrows rise in dismay. “Who hugs during sex?”
“Everyone,” Hannah says. “It’s called missionary style.”
Emma nods. “I’m for hug buddy. What do you think, Cassie?”
“I’m for whatever will get this conversation over the fastest.”
Hannah raises two fists as if she’s just made a goal. “Hug buddy it is!”
I eye the door longingly, wondering if I’m fast enough to escape. Doubtful, given the two and a half glasses of wine I just drank.
Liz erases FUCK and replaces it with HUG. “Peter.” She writes down his name.
“Josh!” Hannah adds.
“Stephen,” Emma says.
“Who’s that?” Liz asks.
“Mica’s brother,” Emma says. “He’s in New York modeling this summer, but he starts school in the fall.”
Liz shudders as though she’s recalling a delicious memory. “Oh yeah, definitely putting him down.”
“Greg, from the Beta Tau house.”
“Oh! He’s gorgeous.”
“He’s got a girlfriend.”
“So? Cassie’s cuter. Put him down anyway.”
“
Mr. Westbrook,” Hannah says.
“She’d get him fired,” Liz says.
Emma chuckles. “Cassie’s worth it.”
I tune them out, praying this conversation will be over soon. A fuck buddy is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard of. I’m not a slut, and if anything could make me feel like a two-bit skank, it’s having no-strings-attached sex. I’ve never had sex with a man I don’t love, and I don’t plan to start now. Besides, what would people say about me if they knew I had a fuck buddy?
“Everyone will think I’m a whore, and I’ll get emotionally attached,” I blurt. By saying that aloud, I realize I’m considering the finer details of a fuck buddy, and that’s one step closer to actually getting one.
Liz looks as surprised as I feel. “Um… well… you just have to find someone who’ll be discreet.” She erases Peter Long Dong’s name. “And he’ll have to be someone you’d never consider having a real relationship with, someone you’re not interested in except for sex.” She erases Greg too, because she knows I go for the politician type, and Greg’s on the Greek Council with my ex, Wyatt.
Hannah’s forehead crinkles the way it always does when she’s worried. “I think we need to stop this. Like now.”
I can tell Liz and Emma want to protest, but they’re interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Who is it?” Liz yells.
“The studs next door,” Dylan answers.
“Come in,” she yells even louder.
I grab for the dry-erase board, planning to wipe it clean with my shirt if I have to, but Liz yanks it out of my reach. She turns it facing her so the boys can’t see the list.
The door opens, and Josh walks in wearing soccer pants and a sweaty T-shirt. His gaze fans across the room before resting on me. He smiles. “Hi, Cassie.”
“Hi,” I say, but I don’t smile back. I don’t want to give him any ideas in case he really does have a crush on me.
When Tyler walks in, I feel as if the breath has been knocked from my lungs by a baseball bat. He’s shirtless, wearing gray jersey shorts, and carrying a basketball. He’s got a T-shirt draped over one shoulder, and I’m hoping he doesn’t put it on anytime soon. I’d like to enjoy the view of his lean muscles for as long as possible.
While I’m admiring the black tattoos on his arms—a cross on one thick bicep and tribal art on the other—Liz writes another name on the board. She holds it at an angle only I can see. She’s written Tyler’s name with a big smiley face. I panic but mange to stay in control, slowly reaching for the board so the boys don’t notice. If I draw attention to it and one of them sees the names, I’ll never survive their torments. Liz pulls it back and swipes it clean with a wine-soaked paper towel. Thank God. I let out a long sigh of relief.
Dylan walks in last, dressed like Josh and just as sweaty. He’s half Irish, half Native American, and the combination’s exotic. He has dark skin, brown eyes, and the muscular physique of a boxer. “What’s up, ladies? We just got back from the courts, and I’ve come to see my woman.”
Hannah’s face lights up like a football stadium on game night. “Hi, baby.”
Liz crinkles her nose. “Shouldn’t you have showered first?”
“Naw. My girl likes me sweaty.”
“Eww. Liz’s right,” Hannah says. “Go shower and come back.”
“I’ve only got twenty minutes before we meet the guys at Billy Bob’s.”
“Rangers playing tonight?” Liz asks.
He nods, and Hannah stands so Dylan can take her spot, then she makes herself comfortable in his lap. Josh perches on the arm of the couch next to me. He’s so huge, I’m afraid the frame will collapse. Tyler sits on the loveseat next to Emma and sprawls his arms across the top of the couch as if he owns the place. He smiles at her, and the poor girl turns the color of an overripe beet.
When he gets his fill of Emma, his gaze goes to the TV. “Nice place to pause.” On the screen is a still-picture of Blake Lively bending over and flashing a whole lot of cleavage.
“She’s the perfect girl,” Liz mutters. “Right?”
“Nah. I like brunettes,” Josh says.
I can feel him staring at me. I do my best not to inch away.
“She’s hot,” Dylan says, “but not as pretty as my girl.” He brushes Hannah’s hair aside and kisses her behind the ear.
She giggles, leaning into him. They have to be the cutest couple on the planet with her all-American beauty and his rugged, earthy handsomeness.
Liz clears her throat, and we all turn our attention to her. “Since y’all are here, I have a question.” She sits up straighter, legs crossed and looking prim, but her question is anything but proper. “Have any of you had a fuck buddy?”
I feel the blood draining from my face, and I hide behind my hair, hoping no one will notice. Did she really have to go there? Yes, of course she did, because she’s Liz, and she has no qualms about talking sex with anyone. She’s not breaking the secret sorority code either—thou shalt not allude to being a slut—because she’s not talking about her sex life.
Tyler tilts his head back and laughs. I’m not sure Emma heard the question since she’s busy staring at Tyler and looking dazed.
Dylan doesn’t hesitate to answer, and of all the people in the room, he was the last person I expected to speak up. “I had a friend with benefits. Is that the same thing?”
I watch Hannah closely, hoping she doesn’t get pissed. Dylan has a long list of past partners, and even though Hannah knows he loves her, it’s a sore spot. She swipes her blond bangs away from her temple and goes still. I can’t tell if a storm is brewing behind her blue eyes or not, but I think we’re in the clear.
“Not the same thing,” Tyler says. “A fuck buddy isn’t a friend, just someone you hook up with a lot.”
“So their function’s sex only?” Dylan asks.
“Yep,” Tyler says.
“Okay, then yes, I’ve had a fuck buddy,” Dylan says.
Oh, hell. Dylan needs a lobotomy.
“Then what’s a booty call?” Josh asks.
Hannah stands up and does a smashing job of looking hurt, pissed, and annoyed all at the same time. She doesn’t say anything; she just grabs her purse from under the coffee table and turns toward the front door.
“A booty call is a late-night phone call to get laid,” Tyler answers.
“So I could ‘booty call’ a ‘fuck buddy’ or a ‘friend with benefits’?” Josh asks.
“Exactly,” Tyler answers. He’s obviously the resident subject expert.
“Do you need a ride home?” Hannah asks Emma.
I debate pulling Hannah into my room and letting her vent, but sometimes Dylan’s a dumbass, and Hannah leaving is probably the wakeup call he needs.
Emma’s still staring at Tyler. “Um, sure.” She grabs her purse. With an extra swing in her hips I’m sure is meant to impress Tyler, she takes off after Hannah.
Dylan seems to come out of his stupidity daze. His gaze goes from Hannah to her purse. “You leaving, baby?”
Without answering, Hannah steps outside. Emma peers over her shoulder to make sure Tyler’s watching. He winks at her, and she giggles as she closes the door. I wouldn’t be surprised if Emma gushes about Tyler all the way home, oblivious to Hannah’s mini-drama. I’ll call Hannah in fifteen minutes to let her rant to someone who isn’t under the spell of the university god.
Liz turns a severe glare on Dylan. “You’re an idiot.” She took the words right out of my mouth. “When I asked if anyone had had a fuck buddy, I didn’t expect you to chime in.”
Dylan rubs both hands down his face. “Me and my big mouth.”
“Dude, you don’t tell your girlfriend you’ve had a fuck buddy,” Josh says. “Even I know that.”
Dylan sighs. “It was three years ago.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Tyler says. “She’ll hold that over your head forever.”
“Shit.” He hops off the couch and darts for the door. “Gotta go.”
; “What about the game?” Josh asks.
“I’ll meet you there later.”
“Get flowers,” Tyler calls. “Twenty bucks at Wal-Mart for a dozen roses, and not the shitty white or yellow ones. That’ll just piss her off more.”
Liz, Josh, and I stare at Tyler as if he’s grown boobs.
“How do you know what to get a pissed-off woman?” Liz asks. “I thought you left your girls spewing obscenities.”
He smirks, and it’s so cocky it’s almost endearing. “I do. Dad screws up a lot and my stepmom likes roses.”
Liz stands and grabs Emma and Hannah’s wine glasses. “Y’all want some wine?” She tilts her head at the magnum on the coffee table.
“No, thanks,” Tyler says. “We have a game to watch.” He stands and stretches his arms over his head. The waistband of his shorts rides low over his chiseled hips and shows off a smattering of dark hair trailing downward.
“Then get your stinky asses out of here,” she says.
Josh stands and opens his arms wide, wet sweat-stains darkening his armpits. “Not until I get a hug.”
Liz scowls. “If you value your balls, you won’t touch me.”
Tyler feigns a punch to Josh’s gut. “Come on, asshole.” He shoves him toward the door.
Liz and I watch them go, and I can’t help but think Tyler looks as good leaving as he does walking in. His lean back muscles push against his tan skin in all the right places.
Before he shuts the door, he turns and looks straight at me with those piercing eyes of his. “Do you two have class on Thursday?”
“Nope,” Liz replies.
“We’re wake-boarding. You ladies are welcome to join us.”
I know he said ladies, but the way he’s staring at me makes me feel as though the invitation’s directed solely at me.
“We’ll be there,” Liz says before ambling into the kitchen.
“Bye, Cassie,” Josh calls.
Tyler throws me a lopsided grin before closing the door. I’m left alone in the living room, wondering if anyone noticed I haven’t said a word since Liz brought up the topic of fuck buddies.
Summer's Temptation Page 5
