by Emma Hart
Mack grinned. “Always a pleasure to see him shut up.”
“More of a pleasure to see him leave,” I muttered, grabbing a cloth and wiping up a spill on the other end of the bar.
They all laughed.
At least we weren’t talking about me having sex with Luke anymore.
“All right, question,” Sean said, leaning forward on the bar. He was leaner than his friends, but his arms were still as toned as theirs. “If you had to pick right now between me, Will, and Luke, who would you take home?”
I stilled. What the hell kinda question was that? “I’m too sober for Truth or Dare.”
“Weren’t you giving up drinking?” Luke smirked.
“I was until y’all walked in here,” I replied. “You’d drive nuns to drink.”
“I’d consider that a personal triumph.” Will’s brown eyes shone with laughter. “Well, who’d you pick?”
I didn’t even need to think about it. “Mack.”
“Mack wasn’t an option.”
“I know that, but he’d bring Daisy, then I’d get baby snuggles.” I shrugged. “Luke would just eat all my food like he does anyway. Sean, you’d try to perv me in the shower, and Will, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not a blonde kinda girl.”
He laughed. “I know that. Honestly, Daisy aside, I thought you’d pick Luke.”
“So did I,” Sean agreed. “As much as it kills me.”
I rolled my eyes. “Please. He already invites himself into my apartment and eats all my food. It doesn’t matter if I’d take him home or not—he shows up whenever he pleases.”
“That’s why I thought you’d pick him.” Will shrugged. “You’re halfway to dating. Are y’all sure you haven’t kissed?”
Yes. We have. A lot.
I raised my eyebrows and, with a tiny snort, looked at Luke. His expression was as disbelieving as mine was, except his lips were curved to one side with the tiniest hint of amusement at the suggestion. “Absolutely sure we’ve never kissed,” I lied smoothly.
Luke nodded. “Not once. Well, there was that awkward almost-kiss at prom, but that was idiot here turning her head the wrong way for the photos.”
“Me? You moved, too!” I jabbed my finger at him across the bar. “It was a freak accident, and technically not a kiss. Stop saying it was.”
“Did your lips touch?” Sean asked, looking between us.
“No.”
“Yes.”
I glared at Luke. “They did not touch!”
He held his hands up. “Just saying it as I remember it.”
“More like how you dreamed it.” I poked my tongue out at him and walked down the bar to where Mr. and Mrs. Sanderson were waiting.
They came in every night like clockwork for two glasses of Merlot each.
I served them their first and set them up on tabs then, once again, went back to the guys. “Justin still not back?”
“Nah, you probably bruised his ego a little too much this time.” Luke shrugged.
“Just as well,” Sean added. “That way he didn’t have to hear about you two kissing.”
“We didn’t kiss!” I pointed my finger at him, then slowly moved it side to side until I’d pointed at all four guys. “Got it?”
“Who didn’t kiss?” Justin came back right at that moment.
“Nobody,” Mack said quickly, winking at me. “You leaving?”
He nodded, taking two big drinks of his beer until it was almost empty. “Savannah called.”
“Who’s Savannah?” I asked.
Justin turned his attention to me. “Why? You jealous?”
“Greener than a field of grass in the middle of summer,” I replied dryly.
“She’s his fuck buddy.” Luke’s lips twitched. “Not exactly anything to be jealous of.”
“At least I have a fuck buddy,” Justin drawled, shrugging his jacket on.
“Yeah, that’s what I want,” Luke replied. “A fuck buddy. Someone who’ll call and use me when they’ve got an itch to scratch.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Justin grinned and, with a wave goodbye, left.
I shook my head and took his glass. “I don’t know how y’all put up with him.”
“He’s not wrong.” Will laughed. “I’d take a fuck buddy. Hey, Aspen, you seein’ anyone?”
“You’ll be seeing your maker if you carry on with that crap, William.” I laughed myself as I put the dirty glass in the tray beneath the bar to take to the back. “No wonder Mack’s the only one of y’all with a girlfriend. He’s the only one with a half-decent bone in his body.”
“Yeah, don’t you remember that time I hit on you before I met her?” Mack asked with a chuckle.
“Yes, but you said please. These morons just take it for granted that I’ll date them.”
Luke mock-gasped, touching his hand to his chest right as I turned around. “I’ve never done such a thing.”
I gripped the edge of the bar and, leaning forward, twisted my lips into a half smile. “You don’t need to. You take it for granted that I’ll always have food in my kitchen.”
“And yet, you still go shopping.” He held his hands out to the sides.
“If she didn’t, you’d fuckin’ starve, you lazy bastard.” Sean laughed, causing the other guys to, too.
“Nah, I’d call Abuelita and get her to cook for me.” Luke grinned.
“Then you’d weigh three-hundred pounds in a year,” I reminded him. “She’d feed the entire homeless population of the United States if anyone would give her access to a kitchen big enough.”
“And people skilled enough,” Will added. “I remember, one time, when we were fifteen, I asked her if she needed help in the kitchen. She told me in no uncertain terms that if I couldn’t speak Spanish, I needed to get the fuck out of her kitchen immediately.”
I almost choked on my water. “Been there. Nobody offers Maria Lòpez help unless she asks you for it first.”
“And even then, you verify what she wants the help for.” Luke shook his head. “Still, she’d cook three meals a day for me if I asked her.”
“Nana’s boy.” I grinned and swiped two empty wine glasses from the bar, waving goodbye to the couple they’d belonged to.
“Whatever. You don’t complain when she sends me to your place with take-out containers full of food.”
“Obviously not. Her food tastes like magic. I’ll take all the food I can get from her.” I put the dirty glasses into the tray and, after skimming the bar quickly, took Will’s empty glass to refill it. “In fact, bringing me her food is the least you can do after the amount of mine you eat.”
He moved his hand in a motion that said I was talking too much and muttered under his breath like when we were kids.
I shot him a look as I slid Will his beer.
Luke sighed. “Fine. I’ll call her and tell her I ate all your food again.”
I grinned. “Damn right you will.”
CHAPTER FIVE – ASPEN
Let’s Not Taco ‘Bout That
Tuesday.
Three days post worst-ever-sex, and Blaire wouldn’t shut up about it. She still couldn’t understand why I didn’t want to bring it up to Luke, and I was this-fucking-close to blocking her number.
It wasn’t going to happen. It was as simple as that.
If the last three days had shown me anything, it was that our friendship could move on as normal. Saturday night hadn’t been mentioned once or even referred to by anyone.
What had happened between us was done. It was in the past. And, for some weird reason, nothing had changed between us. I’m sure it would be different if Luke remembered, but I wasn’t going to jeopardize anything by telling him it.
I mean, come on.
Nothing good could come from telling my best friend he was the worst guy I’d ever slept with.
And yes, I was sure the tequila had a hand in that, but I didn’t want to know what it would be like to have sex with him while sober.
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I was pretty sure I didn’t.
Mostly.
I think.
All right, I wanted to know. I was a curious person. I liked having answers, which was why I could never become a physicist. There were too many questions and not enough answers.
Also, I was bad at science.
Right now, for me, ‘What was Luke like in bed while sober?’ was right up there with ‘Did aliens exist?”
Damn him. Damn him for being so drunk he couldn’t remember. Damn me for not being drunk enough to forget.
If he remembered, if we could talk freely about it, then maybe the real thing would be a possibility.
You know. For the purpose of science. And curiosity.
Mostly curiosity.
Totally curiosity.
Damn it. I wasn’t supposed to be thinking these things. Luke was my best friend—not some weird fling. I was supposed to be wondering when he was bringing the enchiladas and quesadillas his grandma promised she’d make me.
I was supposed to wonder if he’d sit through another round of re-runs of The Big Bang Theory during dinner… Or if it was acceptable to ask him to bring me chocolate and tampons.
The chocolate? For sure. The tampons?
Ehhhhh.
I wasn’t sure about that. Was that normal?
Not that it really mattered. I was almost out of options.
I had no tampons.
No sanitary towels.
And I was sitting on the toilet.
Which was why I was pondering the possibility of sleeping with my best friend without being under the influence of tequila.
Hormones. They were persnickety little fuckers.
They also needed to shut their bitch ass mouths.
See? Hormones? Problematic.
Ugh. Unless I wanted to run halfway across town with tissue stuck between my legs, I had no choice. Blaire was at work, and my parents were visiting friends in Austin.
I had to text Luke.
I sighed and picked my phone up from the mat on the floor.
Me: DEFCON FIVE EMERGENCY
What could I say? Drama was my friend, and Luke loved me for it. That and my full fridge.
Luke: Who do I need to kill?
Me: Why do you always think you need to kill someone?
Luke: You’re a moody bitch this week, and there’s a Defcon 5 emergency. Two and two equal four.
Me: You don’t need to kill anyone.
Luke: K, I’ll grab my spade to bury the body.
I snorted.
Not a thing a girl should do while on her period and sitting on the toilet.
Bodies were gross.
I clenched my legs together as much as I possibly could, trying to ignore the vaginal-sneeze that proved I had no business leaving this bathroom until I had appropriate sanitary products.
Me: No bodies. Maybe yours if you don’t bring me Abuelita’s food anytime soon.
Luke: I’ll call her. Was that the Defcon 5?
Me: No.
Luke: Then what do you want?
Me: I’m out of tampons.
Silence.
Luke: And what the hell do you want me to do about that?
Me: I’m out of tampons. And I’m sitting on the toilet.
Luke: Didn’t you once tell Blaire her backup tampons needed a backup?
Me: Yes. I used the backups. Help me.
Luke: I’m not cut out to buy tampons. This isn’t okay.
Me: OMG PLEAAAASSSSEEEEEEE
Me: I NEEDS THEM
Me: I AM GOING TO CRY
Luke: You’re not going to cry over tampons.
True. I wasn’t. But I was starting to get pins and needles in my legs from sitting on this toilet for so long, and that would make me cry.
Me: Please. I promise not to bitch at you for eating my food for one whole week.
Luke: Oh, boy, push the boat out there, Asp.
Me: Please. Please. Please. Please.
Luke: I’m sighing at you right now. You’re lucky I’m on my lunch break.
Me: I’ll even pay you back for your lunch.
Luke: You’ll make me lunch for my inevitable embarrassment. What do I need to buy?
I grabbed the empty tampon box and snapped a picture, then attached it to another message and sent it.
Luke: What if they don’t have those?
Me: Deal with that when you get there. Right now, I’m bleeding out while you argue semantics.
Luke: If you were bleeding out, my life would be a lot more peaceful.
Me: I’m going to spit in your sandwich.
Luke: Leaving now. Give me 10 minutes.
The way to a man’s heart was definitely through his stomach.
It worked well to get your own way, too.
If someone had told teen me that, those years would have been a hell of a lot easier.
***
“Aspen?” Luke’s shout filtered its way through to me in the bathroom.
“In the bathroom!”
“Still? Are you taking the world’s biggest shit?”
“No, I’m saving the planet by bleeding directly into the toilet bowl!” I yelled. “Get in here and give me the damn tampons!”
There was a small knock on the door, then nothing. “You want me to come in there? Why can’t you come and get it?”
“If I have to repeat about the bleeding again…”
“No! No! That’s enough of that!” he said quickly. “Are you covered? For, you know, your dignity.”
“My dignity went to shit when I got caught almost having sex with Simon Jones in the back seat of his car,” I reminded him. “Hold on.” I reached over to the towel rail and pulled a towel off, then used it to cover my body. “Okay. Come in.”
The door handle creaked. Slowly, the door eked open, and Luke’s face appeared. Well, his head appeared. His face was hidden behind his hand.
“Seriously. I’m not standing here performing a witch dance. Give me the damn tampons.”
He parted his fingers and peeked through them. “Thank you. I don’t need to see this.”
I rolled my eyes and took the box from him. “It’s a period, not a massacre.”
“So why the Defcon five?”
“Because if you didn’t bring the tampons, it’d be your massacre.” I grinned and clutched the towel harder. “Now scoot. I’ll be there in a sec to feed your fat ass.”
He laughed, running out of the bathroom faster than I’d ever seen him run before.
The door clicked shut behind him—banged, actually—and I breathed a sigh of relief as I tore open the box.
Thank God.
A few minutes later, all was right again in my world, if you didn’t count the fact that my legs were half dead from a ridiculous amount of time spent on the toilet.
“You washed your hands, right?” Luke eyed me as I joined him in the kitchen.
“No,” I said slowly. “I make a habit of inserting things into my vagina and not washing my hands after.”
“I can make my own sandwich.” He moved to pass me.
I nudged him with my elbow. “Sit down. I’ll make you a sandwich. Thank you, by the way. I really appreciate it.”
He grunted and sat at the island. “So you should. That was a nightmare. Have you ever walked into a store and had to ask where the lady section is?”
I paused, my grip on the fridge door firm, and turned to him. I simply blinked. I wasn’t going to justify that with an answer.
“It took three people before a poor woman at the customer service desk took pity on me and walked me to the tampon aisle,” he went on, oblivious to my death stare. “She hovered over me for a second, and I started fucking sweating, Aspen. Sweating.”
I bit my lip and moved the ingredients for his sandwich over to the board on the island.
“I almost dropped my phone trying to find the photo you sent me, and when I finally brought it up, I was so fucking confused I stood there like a lame damn duck for five minutes before
she came back to help me like she knew I was a total idiot.”
Was it wrong that I was way more amused about this than anything else? A part of me told me I should feel bad, but…
“Did you know there are tons of those things? The boxes are all different. There are different brands. Different sizes. Different… absorbency levels.” He shuddered, his wide, muscled shoulders shaking with his cringey thought. “For flows and stuff.”
“I shop there regularly. I am aware.”
“Not that fucking regularly if you sent me to buy them,” he muttered. “Anyway, the nice lady who was trying her best not to laugh at the idiot in the sanitary products aisle asked me who I was buying them for. My mom, my sister, my girlfriend…”
I chopped the lettuce.
“When I told her it was for my best friend, she looked at me funny for a minute before nodding. Then, she dragged me over to the aisle with the candy and told me that Twizzlers went well with tampons. I was so confused I didn’t question her, so here.” He lifted a small bag from the stool next to him and tossed it in my direction. “You’re the proud owner of eight packets of Twizzlers.”
“Oooh, Twizzlers!” I dropped the knife and dove into the bag, pulling out all the long, red packets. “This is like heaven!”
“Dude.” Luke leaned forward and held his hands out. “My sandwich?”
“Geez, who’s on their period? You or me?” I put the candy down and went back to making his sandwich. “You should have saved the Twizzlers until after you got your food.”
“Rookie mistake.” He shook his head. “Please don’t ever ask me to buy you tampons again. I’m not sure my ego or reputation can take it.”
“Your reputation got shot to shit on your twenty-first when you mooned the mayor in the town square,” I reminded him.
