When and with whom I have sex is none of his business, I don’t care how long we’ve been friends. We crossed a never-should-have-been-crossed line in our friendship twice—three times if you count yesterday—but it’s not going to happen again. I had to learn that lesson the hard way, Troy Ridgefield style.
What’s that saying? Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, you caught me at a weak moment when I thought you’d come to your senses and realized we were meant to be together. But fool me beyond that and I’ll bend over and take the well-deserved kick in the ass like the big-girl panties I’m wearing suggests I am.
His gaze goes from probing to penetrating. Then he gives me a curt, hard nod.
He’s not happy.
Well too bad.
He started dating Katie three weeks after we slept together. Three frickin’ weeks. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had sex with her on their first date.
“Now if that’s all, Dad, I need to get ready or I’ll be late for my date.”
After treating me to a long unwavering look, he mutters a goodbye and then exits my room.
CHAPTER SIX
“You’re quiet tonight.”
Melissa’s comment draws my attention back to her and our date. Such as it is. I feel guilty because I can think of a few other things I’d rather be doing tonight than eating dinner at Gable’s with her.
“Sorry. Just gotta lot of stuff on my mind.” I’ve been distracted thinking about what happened at April’s earlier.
She hasn’t had sex with Johnson. That was my most important takeaway from our conversation.
Mel flashes me an understanding smile. “Big game next weekend?”
“Nope. Season’s over. Just practice until the fall.”
According to April, Mel’s my type because she says I have a thing for blondes with big tits. Courtney and Mel might fit that description but that doesn’t mean I have a type. I absolutely do not. I like Mel because she’s fun, sweet and easy on the eyes. But she knows absolutely dick about football. Nada. She doesn’t know when the season starts or when it ends. In the two months I’ve been seeing her, I’ve mentioned both at least half a dozen times.
“I knew that. I meant basketball.”
If I didn’t know better, I’d swear she did, she recovers so quickly. But I haven’t been following the playoffs and never told her I was. However, if there’s one thing I recently learned about Mel it’s that she hates being wrong. Not a quality that will work well with me in the long run, but I’m not looking that far ahead.
“Not watching so I don’t care who wins,” I reply before looking around the restaurant. “So where’s the waitress?” Let’s get the show on the road so we can wrap this up early.
Melissa joins me in my search for our elusive waitress. Suddenly she goes still, her gaze fixed on the entrance. I angle my head to see what or who’s captured her attention. I’m met with the sight of April and Johnson.
April doesn’t see us but she will soon enough. When I return my gaze to Mel, I find her staring accusingly at me.
Fuck. I have a feeling this date is about to take a hard turn for the worse.
“Isn’t that your friend?” There’s no missing her not-so-subtle emphasis of the last word.
“Yeah.” As if you can mistake April for any other girl. You can’t.
“Is that her boyfriend?” Her tone feigns mild curiosity, but her gaze remains fastened on them with the precision of a heat-seeking missile as they follow the hostess to a table in the corner.
“How should I know?” There are few things more irritating than people asking me questions they already know the answer to.
An abrupt twist of her head, and Mel’s narrowed eyes are back on me. “I don’t know, maybe because she’s your friend?” As hard as she tries, my date can’t keep the sarcasm from her voice.
I’m saved from having to respond when our waitress saunters over with our drinks. Perfect timing. I could kiss her and by the sly glances she’s giving me, she’d probably welcome it.
After she leaves, I pray discussion of April is over.
Mel takes a sip of her margarita. “So you and April have been friends for, how long?”
Right. Should I be so lucky.
Again she asks as if she doesn’t know the answer. Believe me, she does. This is the third time she's asked. I thought she was smart but she can’t be all that bright if she can't subtract five from twenty-one. That’s basic math.
I give her the look. You know the one that says I’m not entertaining whatever insecurities are driving her tonight. It looks like her true colors are beginning to show—an ugly shade of green.
“Look, I didn’t know she was going to be here, alright?” My voice is low and tight, and my gaze doesn't stray from her blue eyes even though I have to forcibly restrain myself from glancing over to the table where April and her idiot boyfriend are sitting.
Melissa gives me this wide-eyed, who-me look. “What? I was just asking.”
Yeah, right. Just asking my ass.
I already know what I plan to order but I pick up the menu to give me something to do other than continuing this conversation.
Silence is my reprieve. It barely lasts a few seconds before she hits me again. This time with, “So you guys never…?” Her question fades to black as she’s too uncomfortable to say it out loud.
Very slowly, I lift my gaze from the menu back to hers. She’s as attentive as I’ve ever seen her while trying and failing to pull off the I’m-just-curious look.
“Have we ever what?” I ask quietly. The warning in my voice is meant to nip this inquisition shit in the bud. It doesn't work.
After taking a quick look around, she leans across the table. “Had sex,” she whispers.
From the moment I first introduced Melissa to April, I knew one day this question would come. Every girl I’ve ever gone out with has asked it one time or another. But two years ago I could answer it honestly without pissing the girl off. These days, I’m screwed either way. Lying sucks and I suck at it. And the truth won’t go over well.
Why do you think my high-school girlfriend and I broke up?
She’s named after a month of a year and she’s more gorgeous than anyone has a right to be.
To this day, April doesn't have a clue that she's been like kryptonite to all my relationships. And if I have anything to do with it, she never will.
“I’d tell you if I thought it was any of your business.” With that comment, I know I’m digging my own grave but at this point, I don’t care.
Mel sits straight back in her chair, the abruptness managing to express her displeasure more than the anger flaring in her eyes. “Oh my God, you had sex with her!”
I don’t like scenes and I hate tantrums but I’m afraid I’m fielding a volcanic one right now. “I didn’t say that.” My voice is low and calm.
A frown pinches her lips. “I’m not friends with my old boyfriends.”
I shrug. “I wouldn’t mind if you were.” I’m not lying about that. As long as she’s not sleeping with us at the same time, I’m cool.
My admission seems to piss her off even more. “And would you mind if I eye fuck him right in front of you?” Her tone is saccharine but it’s far from sweet.
I glance around. The restaurant is noisy and full, as it is most Friday nights and so far no one’s paying attention to us. I intend for it to stay that way.
“Look, I’m not doing this here.”
Picking the cloth napkin off her lap, she tosses it down on the table as if she’s officially declaring war. “Tough. I’m not going to sit around while you cheat on me with her.” She turns and glares at the back of April’s head.
“I’m not sleeping with her.” I’m doing my best not to lose it but Mel’s not making it easy.
“Maybe not now, but you have and you probably will again.”
I suppress a sigh. I fuckin’ give up. If I’d had any idea Mel was wrapped this loose, I never would’ve asked her out to
begin with. “Look, I think we should just go.”
Surprise, hurt and a myriad of other emotions flash across her face. Tears fill her eyes. My bad date is now the date from hell. No doubt about it, it’s time to let Melissa the Headcase go.
“Just tell me one thing, have you been screwing her the whole time?”
What. The. Fuck?
I lean forward, bringing my face inches from hers. “Look, just because your last boyfriend cheated on you, it doesn’t mean I am. I haven’t.” Obviously the responsibility of acting like an adult has landed squarely on my shoulders.
Like a drowning person thrown a lifejacket, she grabs onto my words with both hands. Glassy-eyed, she drops her chin to her chest and draws in a big breath. “I’m sorry. I-I don’t know what I was thinking—what I was saying. It’s just that my ex ended up going back to his ex. He told me they were just friends and he strung me along for almost two years.”
That sucks, and I feel bad for her. But it’s too late. We’re done. The glimpse I just got of the real her is the only warning I need. She’s already jealous of April to a degree I can’t fully comprehend. She barely knows her and she doesn’t know how we are together. Clearly this isn’t going to work.
“That’s why I know that once you’ve had sex with someone, you can’t be friends. It never works.”
I give my head a mind-clearing shake. “What are you saying?”
“That to be fair to me, you need to stop seeing her.”
She’s either handing me my walking papers or issuing me an ultimatum. My guess is the latter. I let out a breath. Well this is going to be easy.
“So you expect me to give up my best friend, someone I’ve known for over fifteen years…for you?”
Her solemn expression tells me Mel doesn’t think it’s as absurd as it is.
“I’d do the same for you.” There’s something irritatingly plaintive in her assertion and it grates my nerves.
“I wouldn’t ask you to.”
A small gasp escapes her lips as frustration flashes in her eyes. Before she can get into a full-blown snit, I add, “Because I would trust you if you told me there was nothing going on with your ex.
That seems to pull her back from the edge she was about to fall from. Her mouth snaps closed, her indignation stolen from her next breath. It takes a moment for her to get her wind back. “You wouldn’t be jealous?”
Of her? No. I’d have to be nuts about her, which I’m not. “I don’t get jealous.” Generally, that’s the truth.
“I don’t get jealous unless a guy gives me a reason to,” she says pointedly.
I refuse to take the bait. The only thing I want to do is get through dinner.
Right then, April gets up and winds her way to the back of the restaurant where the restrooms are located. If Mel had blinked, she’d have missed the quick glance I gave April’s retreating form.
“Do you want to go join her?” Her overly sweet smile is in stark contrast with the cold fury in her eyes.
I look at her hard, my brow furrowed. “Are you serious?”
She stares back at me as if I’m the crazy one. “You’re not going to make a fool out of me.”
Okay, that’s it. I’m done.
“You know what, I think it’s time to call it a night.” I hoped it wouldn’t have to come to this but I won’t lie, I’m fuckin’ relieved. I don’t think I can stomach having to put up with her for five more minutes much less an hour.
Her response is to stare at me, unblinking. Slowly, carefully, she plucks the napkin off her lap and places it on the table beside her drink.
“Yes, I guess you probably have other plans for later on tonight.” Her voice is scarily controlled, a foreshadowing I take to heart.
Boy did I pick a winner this time.
Of course I don’t reply, aware she’s trying to goad me. Nope, not going to happen.
I quickly spot our waitress and motion her over. A second later she’s at our table. Wide smile in place, she chirps, “Ready to order?”
I offer her an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, but we have to leave, so can I get the check for the drinks?”
Our waitress’s smile falters. “Um—yes, of course.”
We wait in tension-filled silence for her to return with the check. I settle it quickly, leaving her a generous tip.
As Mel and I stand to leave, I spot April on her way back to her table. Our eyes meet as she lowers herself onto her chair. She sends me an abbreviated wave and a small smile, unaware she’s just lit the match to a powder keg of simmering jealousy and resentment.
Mel makes a rude sound in her throat, shoots me a death glare before turning abruptly and heading directly toward April’s table.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.
I immediately start after her, ignoring the curious looks following our hurried progress. Whatever Mel is about to do or say has disaster written all over it, and I will do everything in my power to stop her.
She arrives at their table a second ahead of me. April and Johnson look up, polite smiles on their faces as they regard us.
I lightly touch Mel’s elbow. “Come on Mel, let’s go.”
What’s going on? April’s eyes silently ask me.
Mel jerks her arm from my hand and directs her attention to Johnson after treating April to a vicious glare. “Thought you might want to know that your slut of a girlfriend is screwing my boyfriend. Don’t believe her if she tells you they’re only friends,” she says, air quoting the last word.
Jesus H Christ.
Burning heat washes over my face and singes my ears.
April’s lips part in stunned horror. Johnson’s eyes go to mine and then back to April.
I instinctively look around to see how far the ripples of Mel’s broadcast traveled. Studiously avoiding my gaze are the two couples in the tables on either side of us as they fight to keep a straight face. And all I can hear from the group of guys at the table behind me is, “Burn,” and raucous laughter. One of them is laughing so hard, he might be at risk of choking to death.
How fuckin’ embarrassing.
More than for myself, I’m embarrassed for April. She doesn’t deserve this. She didn’t ask to be involved in a scene fit for a Jerry Springer episode.
And Christ Almighty, Mel’s not done.
“Now he’s yours, free and clear. Have fun,” she quips, glaring harshly at April.
“I hope you know, the only person you’re embarrassing is yourself,” April states, her tone and manner cool, calm and controlled. But I know April and I guarantee you she’s seething on the inside.
“You must think that because you’ve been in a couple of zero-class magazines and a fuckin’ cereal commercial that your shit don’t stink. Well, I’m here to tell you you’re wrong. You’re not that hot.”
God, what a bitch. And April is that hot. I haven’t met a girl who holds a candle to her.
“Mel, let’s go,” I manage to get out from between teeth clenched so hard, my jaw hurts. I’m ready to drag her out of there if I have to.
With a sharp swivel of her head, she turns her fuck-you glare in my direction. “I’m not going anywhere with you,” she says, practically hissing the words. Then she angles her nose in the air, turns and marches away, having captured the attention of almost everyone in the restaurant.
April looks pissed. Pissed enough to go after Mel and put her brown belt in karate to good use. She won’t though. She’s way too classy for that.
I sigh and briefly close my eyes, the weight of the last ten minutes crashing down on me. “Look, I’m sorry about that. She’s, uh, obviously, uh, upset…” I should have capped it at, “I’m sorry.”
Mouth fixed in a flat line, April raises a finely shaped eyebrow. “You think?” There’s enough sarcasm dripping from those two words to drown a giraffe. “You might want to keep your girlfriend away from babies, the elderly and small animals. She seems to be on a roll tonight.”
If we weren’t out in public, and in fron
t of what’s his name, I’d remind her I’m not Melissa just her unfortunate date for the night.
“Yeah. I’ll talk to you later.” My remark earns me a sharp look from her date.
Deal with it, asshole, she’s my best friend. And not even your Armani-loving self is going to change that.
As I exit the restaurant, I feel the heat of his anger on my back all the way out the door.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I’m not surprised when I hear a knock on the apartment door close to midnight. And even less so when I look through the peephole and see Troy standing on the other side.
I’ve been expecting him.
I’ve been home for ten minutes.
He damn well took his time.
Muttering a curse, I throw open the door. Barely sparing him an irate glance, I stomp back to the living room. As you can probably tell, I’m still angry. His girlfriend turned what should have been a nice evening out into a circus sideshow.
“Rosie, I’m sorry,” he says, following close behind me.
I flop onto the couch and glare up at him.
“Don’t ever tell me I have crappy taste in guys. My taste is Olympic-gold-medal standard compared to the bitches you hook up with.”
Somewhere, way in the back of my mind, I realize I’m taking tonight’s debacle out on the wrong person, but he’s here and she’s not. Plus, he’s the idiot who picked Miss Psycho out of all the sane girls he easily could have.
Troy stares down at me, mystified. “Why are you mad at me? I said I was sorry. Short of throwing her over my shoulder and carrying her out of there, I don’t know what you expected me to do.”
I open my mouth to speak but frustration with the whole situation leaves me momentarily speechless.
He sits down beside me, encroaching on my personal space. “She’s just jealous of you.”
I cut my eyes at him. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
His mouth tightens and his eyes flash in annoyance. “Hey, what’s with the attitude? I’m on your side in this, remember? And you weren’t the only one embarrassed, I was her date.”
“No, Troy, you are her boyfriend. You may be taking her out thinking all you’re doing is screwing her and having a good ole time, but she thinks you’re in a relationship.”
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