Getting Down

by Helena Hunting

  “Oh! Hi, Rosemary! I didn’t even see you there.”

  I don’t correct her on my name. She purposely gets it wrong every single time. Or she’s just too dim to remember.

  “Did you know Lexington is up for auction tonight?”

  Lex shoots daggers at me, but flashes a smile when Brittany turns her grin on him.

  “Oh my God! Lexy!” She launches herself at him. He catches her, wrapping one arm around her waist as she clings to his neck. I unfurl my whip and make like I’m going to strangle her. Lex’s white-toothed grin widens, but changes to a cringe when he gets hit in the face with her hair.

  Bancroft’s chest presses against my back and his mouth is suddenly at my ear. “Don’t be catty.”

  I elbow him in the ribs. “Such a bad joke.”

  When Brittany finally lets go of “Lexy” she drags her hands down his bare chest. “Oh wow! I love your costume. What’re you?”

  “A gladiator.”

  “Of course.” Her nose crinkles and she touches the sword holster at his waist, running her finger down the length. “So like, is this similar to a highlander? You know, the whole kilt, no underwear thing?”

  Seriously. I detest this chick so much.

  Lex smirks. If flirting were a profession, he’d be the CEO of the company. He leans in and says something none of us can hear.

  Her giggle tells me he’s in full-on flirt mode. “I’ll be sure to bid on you. Daddy said I could spend as much as I want this year.” She winks exaggeratedly and licks her lollipop.

  His eyebrows lift. “Lucky me.”

  Judging from her smile, she entirely misses the sarcasm. It’s amazing that he’s able to flirt so shamelessly when even he’s admitted his disdain for her.

  He settles his hands on her hips and moves back a step so she’s not in his personal space anymore and looks her over. “What’s your costume?”

  “I’m the lollipop girl.”

  “Right. Of course you are.”

  After a few beats of silence and a muffled cough from Bancroft, she bounces on her toes, her boobs nearly popping out of her dress. “Okay! Well, I’m going to say hi to some more people. See you all later!” And off she goes.

  “Wow.” Lex blows out a breath.

  I turn to say something to Amie and notice, first, that she’s watching Brittany sashay across the room with the same level of absolute loathing as I usually do. She’s such a great best friend. It’s why I put up with Armstrong. That and I really have no other choice. It’s actually quite nice that he couldn’t make it tonight. As I observe Brittany interacting with another group of debutantes, I note a very familiar-looking man headed straight for Amie, dressed as Peter Pan, jaunty cap perched on his head and everything.

  It takes me a moment to place him. He’s one of Amie’s exes. “Oh shit.” I grab her arm. “Three o’clock. The panty eater.” Of all of Amie’s exes, he’s one I never would’ve considered inviting to an event, because I’m pretty sure he’s certifiable. I did however slip an invite to a couple of the ones who aren’t crazy, but who were definitely enamored of her, likely because she wasn’t interested in whatever they were offering for more than a date or two.

  Amie’s eyes go wide and she glances over. It’s too late to escape. He’s only fifteen feet away and closing in fast. “Who invited him?” she hisses.

  “I have no idea.” It’s the truth, too. As bad as I feel for Amie right now, I almost wish Armstrong was here to witness this, because I’m pretty sure it’s going to be epic. He also needs to understand just how fully obsessed some of Amie’s exes are with her.

  His smile is almost manic as he closes the gap. “Amie. It’s so good to see you.”

  Before she has a chance to respond at all, he wraps his arms around her and buries his face in her neck, turning his head so his nose is pretty much in her hair. Her hands are frozen in the air, fingers spread wide as if she’s being electrocuted. I can’t see her face, but I imagine it’s filled with horror.

  Bancroft’s mouth is at my ear. “Who the hell is that?”

  “I’ll tell you later. It’s a great story,” I promise.

  Prior to meeting Armstrong, Amie had decided to give online dating a chance. She thought it might help weed out some of the undesirables she was prone to going after. Some huge bigwig corporate mogul started messaging her, along with about six hundred other men. As was typical for Amie. She has absolutely no need to use online dating services, apart from being curious. She got asked out standing in lines at the grocery store, at least until Armstrong put a rock on her finger. I’m not sure even that has been much of a deterrent.

  Deacon, the man currently hugging her, certainly wasn’t her usual type, but he was hot, and she was desperate to break her bad-boy pattern, so she went out with him.

  Fast forward three dates later and she ended up back at his place. Apparently this guy had a thing for dining at the pussy buffet while her panties were still on. Which can be sexy in a teasing kind of way. Except he chewed an actual hole in her panties. And of course he kept them, because what man doesn’t need a pair of crotchless panties from a woman he’s fucked? We laughed about it.

  The sex was insane though, based on her reports, so she went back for more.

  The panty chewing continued. He seemed to be making it his mission to turn all of her panties into crotchless ones.

  Anyway, after three panty destructions, she ended things. But in true Amie fashion, she’d managed to secure herself a stage-five clinger. He continued to message her for weeks after she said she wasn’t really interested in a relationship. It took a while for the message to sink in; the threat of a restraining order helped.

  She shut down her account after that. Unfortunately the bar scene produced even less favorable dating options. The next guy she went out with was worse than the online ones—and almost landed her in prison.

  Deacon embraces her far longer than is appropriate. During that time I shift a little, so I’m able to see her face. Everyone in our small group has stopped talking to watch this interaction.

  He finally releases her but holds on to her shoulders as he leans back enough to see her face. His thumbs sweep along her collarbones. “I’d hoped you’d be here.”

  “Deacon, it’s so . . . I didn’t . . . How are you?” Her voice is shrill, disarmed.

  Lex gives me a questioning look. His fingers curl around the hilt of his sword, as if he’s considering using it.

  Amie wraps her delicate hands around Deacon’s wrists and takes a step back. He moves forward with her. This is getting awkward. Especially when he grips her wrists in return, as if he’s unwilling, or possibly unable, to let them go.

  Lex moves in, but I hold up a hand. She’s had years of self-defense classes, hot yoga, Pilates, and some crazy boxing thing she does to keep her fit and safe. Also, I really want to see how this plays out. It’s too bad Armstrong isn’t here to witness this. I search the room, hoping to spot him, but I can’t find him anywhere. I do, however, spot Brittany flirting with some suits.

  It would’ve made my night if Armstrong happened to get punched out by one of Amie’s exes. Well, that and Bancroft fucking me while I’m Catwoman and he’s Batman.

  Deacon holds Amie’s hands together in his and takes another step toward her. “You look so beautiful. It’s just so good to smell you again.”

  And there it is. The weirdness I’m talking about.

  Lex makes a face, as if he’s unsure he heard that correctly.

  “See you again. I mean. So good.” He bows his head and brings her knuckles to his lips. I’m pretty sure he licks her, right before he notices the giant rock on her finger.

  He snaps up, back ramrod straight. “What is that?”

  Amie wipes her hand on her dress. “I’m engaged.” Her voice still has that reedy quality to it.

  He blinks rapidly. Disbelieving.

  “Do I need to manage this guy?” Bancroft asks me.

  Lex steps up beside Amie before Ban
croft can make a move, though, and throws his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side. She stumbles a bit and has to brace herself with a hand on his chest. Which is bare since he’s dressed as a gladiator. He turns his charming smile on Deacon and holds out his hand. “Hello, I’m Lex, Amalie’s fiancé.”

  Amie looks up at him, her expression reflecting both confusion and shock. He bends down and puts his mouth to her ear, whispering something that makes her eyebrows lift even higher, but she gives him the tiniest of nods. What the hell is happening here?

  Deacon looks from Amie to Lex and back again. “Her fiancé?”

  “Yes. In just a few months she’ll be mine forever.” He turns to Amie, smiling down on her with a convincingly loving gaze and takes her chin between his finger and his thumb. For a second I think he’s actually going to kiss her. Instead he dips his head and brushes the end of his nose across the tip of hers. Amie’s eyes are wide. Her hand is wrapped around his wrist. The one that’s holding her chin.

  It occurs to me, as I watch this go down, that those two would actually look incredible together. It’s really too bad she’s set on Armstrong.

  Deacon’s expression has gone from confused to angry. “You’re getting married in a few months?”

  “I’m sorry, how do you know Amalie?” Lex asks, giving him a full once over.

  “We dated,” Deacon snaps.

  “Briefly,” Amie adds.

  “It wasn’t that brief.” He strokes the square of cloth peeking out of the pouch of his little man satchel. He really committed to the Peter Pan bit. He’s even wearing tights. The square of cloth seems out of place, though, since it’s lace and satin. “How long have you been engaged?”

  “That’s irrelevant.” Amie’s hand flutters to her throat.

  Deacon’s still stroking the fabric; the satchel is right over his crotch, so it looks a little obscene. “I thought you said you weren’t interested in getting serious with anyone.”

  “At the time I wasn’t.”

  Deacon scoffs. “So it was just about my cock then.”

  Oh my God. Who the hell says that in public? In front someone’s fiancé, of all people. Even if Lex isn’t really Amie’s fiancé, Deacon doesn’t know that. I’m about to speak up when Lex wraps his gloved hand around the back of Deacon’s neck, wearing a jovial smile. From an outsider’s perspective, it could look very much like a normal conversation apart from Deacon’s angry expression and the way Lex’s fingers dig into his skin.

  “Listen, buddy, that was fucking rude. You’re making a scene and you’re embarrassing yourself and Amalie. Now would be a good time to walk away, unless you’re interested in a bigger scene and some broken bones.”

  Deacon closes his eyes, his expression pinched. He inhales and exhales deeply before his livid gaze finally falls on Amie. “I apologize.”

  I breathe a sigh of relief.

  Lex loosens his grip on Deacon’s neck and gives him a heavy pat on the shoulder. “Smart move.”

  Deacon’s lip twitches. “I’m sure you’ll be very happy together.”

  Lex forces a tight smile and puts an arm around her shoulder again, giving her an affectionate squeeze. “I’m positive we will. She’s too lovely not to be.”

  Deacon’s smile grows viciously wider. “She certainly is lovely. Especially that sweet, tasty pussy of hers.”

  I choke on a cough. Well, this just got X-rated.

  “Motherfucker,” Bane steps around me, possibly to take part in what is likely going to be a very public throw down. Poor Amie. She’s too hot for her own good.

  Lex has already slapped his palm around the back of the panty-chewing, pussy-loving pervert’s neck again. “You just couldn’t keep your mouth shut, had to have the last word.” He cocks a fist and punches Deacon square in the chest while still holding him by the neck. If Deacon could stumble back, he would. But Lex is keeping him firmly in place.

  Amie covers her mouth with a palm, eyes wide with horror.

  As entertaining as this is, it’s definitely not the kind of scene we need. This community loves their scandals, and Amie certainly doesn’t need one with her wedding coming up and her fiancé not even present tonight.

  Amie glances around to see how many people have noticed. We’re tucked away in a corner, and there’s a huge table with a chocolate fountain blocking most of the view, thank God.

  “Lex,” Bane snaps.

  Lex must realize that he’s making the problem worse, instead of better. He throws his arm around Deacon and slaps him on the chest a couple of times, laughing, as if he’s told some hilarious joke.

  Any attention we’ve drawn abates as the men close the circle, obstructing Lex and Deacon further from view.

  “You should apologize to my fiancée, that was disrespectful.” Lex releases Deacon and steps away, raising his hands slightly as he regards Bancroft with an I-did-nothing-wrong look, then turns to Amie. “Why don’t you give me the rundown before the auction starts, sweetheart?”

  She still looks a little shocked by the whole thing.

  Snapping out of her daze she straightens. “Yes. Yes, that would be a good idea.”

  Lex takes a step toward her, kicking something on the floor. He snatches it up, frowning as he inspects it. I recognize it as the little fabric square that had been peeking out of Deacon’s man satchel.

  Except it’s not a pocket square. It’s a pair of panties.

  Chapter 11: Dear Lord

  Amie

  Deacon makes a grab for the fabric square in Lex’s hand. A square I recognize as a pair of panties he gnawed the crotch out of and subsequently stole. He’s the creepiest of creepy.

  I snatch the scrap of fabric from Lex before Deacon can. I’m sure he already knows what they are. Undoubtedly he’s seen many pairs of lacy, satin panties up close and personal. At least those are the rumors.

  “Those are mine!” Deacon shouts.

  I get right up in Deacon’s face. “These are mine, you creepy, perverted bastard. I didn’t want to date you because you do bizarre things like carry around pairs of old, chewed-up panties.” I whirl around, hike up my giant, stupid skirt, and grab Lex by the elbow before he can punch my ex in the face. “Come on, Lex. Let’s go sell you to the highest bidder.”

  “You have interesting taste in guys.”

  “He was one of the better ones, if you can believe it,” I mutter.

  Lex barks out a laugh. “You’re just full of fun surprises, aren’t you, Cinderella.”

  “You don’t know the half of it.” It’s actually probably a blessing that Armstrong isn’t here, otherwise I’d have to explain this insanity.

  Ruby rushes to catch up. She slips her arm through mine. “Are you okay?”

  “I don’t know.” I’m scanning the room as we go. “God, how mortifying was that? I shouldn’t have said anything about the damn panties. I made a scene. What if people noticed? What if it gets back to Gwendolyn?”

  “No one noticed. You’re fine. It’s fine. Bane is going to make sure he leaves right now,” she reassures me as we pass through the curtains that lead backstage.

  Why the hell did Deacon, of all my short-term hook-ups, have to show up here? This is the exact reason I’ve generally avoided dating people who run in the same circles as I do—they all know each other. And they all gossip like thirteen-year-old girls at a sleepover.

  “What if Deacon says something to someone? What if he does something else to embarrass me—” I spin around, ready to go back, but I slam right into a bare chest. Lex’s bare chest. He grabs my arms to steady me.

  “Bane’s got it. You’re good. He’s not going to make another scene.”

  “I don’t understand why the hell he was here in the first place!” I throw my hands up and lose my grip on the panties. They fly into the air and Lex manages to nab them before I can.

  They were a great pair of panties once, before the crotch went missing. Pale blue with navy lace accents; sexy, classy, a little naughty. With the
matching bra and garters I looked pretty damn fantastic.

  He raises a brow as he fingers the material. “Nice.”

  I can feel my face going red. “Thanks. I’ll take those back now, since they’re mine and all.”

  “There’s a hole in them.” He slides two fingers through the tear.

  Oh my God. This is not happening. My best friend’s boyfriend’s brother is not sticking his fingers through a hole in a pair of my old panties. “I’m aware,” I barely choke out the words.

  “It looks like they’ve been chewed.”

  “That’s because they have.”

  His furrow deepens. “Does he have a dog or something?”

  “No.” Dear lord. This is seriously the worst conversation I’ve ever had to have. Well, maybe not. That time when I had to explain to my father why I was being held for questioning at the airport in Mexico was worse, and at least I’m not having this conversation with Armstrong. Not that this is much better, mind you. I’m sure I’m making one hell of an impression right now.

  “You’re a bit of a wild one, aren’t you?” Lex’s eyebrows lift, a wide smile breaks across his face and I wait for the next question, because I know it’s coming, in three, two, one . . . “Wait, are these dirty?”

  And there it is. I literally have to fight with my mouth not to smile back at him. “I believe they are, yes.”

  “You think I should check, just to make sure?” He starts to lift them to his nose.

  Ruby jumps in and snatches them from him, but his fingers are still stuck in the hole, which tears more as she yanks them out of his grasp and tosses them to me. She points a finger in his face. “That’s just fucking gross. He’s probably had those for a year. I bet he jerked off with them.”

  Lex makes a gagging sound, then turns to me, looking concerned. “Is he a serial killer? Do you need someone to escort you home tonight?”