by RC Boldt
“Yep.”
Adam turned back to her just as she peeked at him out of the corner of her eye. “You know I watch what I eat.” She slapped a hand against her hip. “Because of this, right here.”
Adam snorted. “Please. You’ve got the body of a goddess. Fit but deliciously curvy, like J. Lo. Plus, I’m sure you didn’t hear any complaints from … Mayson?” His eyes watched her closely for a reaction.
She could do this. Commence display of poker face. Come on, Kavanaugh. Be cool, she told herself. Laney stared back at Adam, unflinchingly. And continued staring. And staring.
Then she felt it. Damn it. Maybe he wouldn’t notice it. Maybe he’d be too distracted thinking about penises to—
“There it is!” he suddenly exclaimed, making her jump. “The corner of your eye is twitching! I knew it! I knew he was going to feed your kitty last night!” He pumped his fist in glee.
Stunned, Laney stared at him with wide eyes. “You did not just refer to Zach as ‘feeding my kitty last night’.” Turning to Tate, she asked, “Did he?”
“Yep.” She shrugged. “It’s more creative than saying he laid the pipe.”
Adam nodded. “Or parking the beef bus in tuna town.”
“Or they went to the battle of balls deep.”
Adam’s eyes lit up, impressed. “He stuffed her muffin.”
“He took the hot dog bus to taco town.”
“Oh, my gosh! Enough already!” Laney stared at her friends. “The two of you are extremely disturbed individuals.”
Adam turned to Tate. “Did you know?”
“I saw her car in his driveway early this morning. It confirmed it for me. Regardless of whatever Miss Taco Town here says,” Tate tossed a thumb in Laney’s direction, “it totally went down.”
Laney threw her hands up, exasperated. “Okay! Fine! We did it. Are you happy, now? Can we talk about something else, please?” She really didn’t want to reminisce about the shitty way—and it had been really shitty—things had ended this morning at Zach’s.
Tate stared at her, tilting her head to the side as if she had discovered an interesting specimen of some sort. “You’re nervous about something.”
Laney felt her hands get clammy. She really didn’t like the way this conversation was going so she did what her fight-or-flight reaction indicated she should do: she deflected.
“I’m not nervous,” she scoffed. “I think you’re projecting … how you feel when you get around Miller.” Laney was actually quite proud of coming up with this, completely shooting from the hip.
Tate drew back, making a face. “What? I don’t care about Miller.” Her gaze darted away at the mention of her brother’s employee who was a doppelganger of Tim Tebow and just as sweet as the former Florida Gator’s quarterback. Except, that is, for when he and Tate were in the same vicinity of one another because, then, it was a different story. The normally sweet, easygoing demeanor of both Tate and Miller vanished when you put the two of them near one another. She had yet to figure that one out.
“And don’t even think about trying your matchmaking thing with me,” Tate warned. “I watched what awfulness you lined Raine up with and that was an utter nightmare.” She shuddered in remembrance of the numerous dating debacles Raine had been through.
Adam pointed a finger at Laney. “I’m calling you on your deflecting technique, Kavanaugh. Nice try.”
“Thank you! I was just about to say the same thing.” Tate reached over to high-five Adam before they both turned their attention back to her.
Laney cringed inwardly at the turn the conversation had taken. With a loud groan, she grabbed the throw pillow beside her, pressed it over her face, and let out a muffled yell.
Adam gave the pillow a tug. “You don’t get to suffocate yourself to get out of this. I want details on Mayson’s bedroom techniques.”
“Fine!” she said with exasperation. “I slept with him.” Inhaling a deep, fortifying breath, she continued, “I slept with Zach last night and we had stellar, earth-shattering sex numerous times. He made me feel amazing and beautiful and he was super sweet to me this morning.”
“Aaaaand?” Tate and Adam spoke in unison.
“And I totally freaked out because we argue. We always do. It’s our thing, right? I hate him and he hates me right back. And there he was this morning, standing in his kitchen, making me a mother effing omelet for breakfast. No guy has ever made me anything for breakfast.”
Laney let out a lengthy sigh tinged with regret. “And I … fucked it up. I made the moment seem almost dirty.” She swallowed thickly. “If you could’ve seen the way he looked at me in that kitchen …” She shook her head, staring off, lost in the memory.
Adam grasped her hand. “Sweetie, you didn’t know how to react so you went back to the norm.”
Tate nodded. “Yeah. You reverted to what you know. But it sounds like he was hoping for a much different reaction from you.”
“Yeah, I know that now.” She saw her friends’ eyes fill with sadness, mirroring her own. “I used to think he hated me all this time, but I realized I was wrong. Because today, in his kitchen, I watched it happen before my eyes.
“I managed to make him truly hate me.”
* * *
Zach walked up the steps to his house, carrying the six pack of beer and his shopping bags while Lawson carried the pizza along with his own bags. They’d decided to grab some food and bring it back to his place. Their plan was to eat before they placed their gifts in the appointed gift bags with some tissue paper because, hey, it was easier than wrapping.
Setting the pizza down on the coffee table in front of the couch, Zach went to grab a roll of paper towels and two plates while Lawson put the beer in the fridge after removing two. Uncapping the beers, he brought them over to the table and set them down on coasters.
“Dig in, man.” Zach handed him a plate before picking up the remote, turning the television to one of the sports channels.
The two men ate in companionable silence a while before Lawson spoke. “Hey, man. Did I ever tell you the story about this cute girl who didn’t like me and I used to purposely piss her off all the time just to get her to notice me? Because I was, like, super in love with her or something?” His friend’s head tilted in question, a serious look on his face.
Zach stared at Lawson for a long moment, an uneasy feeling coming over him. Lawson wasn’t normally the one to have heart to hearts. He was the joker of the group. But, hey, there was a first time for everything, right?
“No, Laws,” he answered carefully, “you’ve never told me that story …”
Lawson snapped his fingers as if remembering something. “Oh, wait! That’s because it’s not my story. It’s yours.” His friend smirked before shoving a large wad of pizza into his mouth and began chewing, watching him for a reaction.
Zach turned his attention to the television, doing his best to ignore him. He should have known better.
“Fucktard,” he mumbled, ignoring Lawson’s laughter.
He really needed to get new friends.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THEY WERE ALL GATHERING DOWNTOWN at The Turtle for their Christmas gift exchange. The local bar had a large outdoor seating area, aside from the one indoors, and they knew the owner, Big Mike. Big Mike had promised he would reserve a table for them as he did every year the weather cooperated for their gift exchange.
It was a clear, cool night—“cool” being a relative term since it was Florida and she considered cool as anything below eighty degrees—and Laney had paired a thin, black sweater with her maroon-colored, wraparound dress.
She had straightened her hair and applied some sparkly, slate-colored shadow to her eyes before adding a darker shade of red lipstick to finish her look. She slid her feet into a pair of black beaded flip flops as she grabbed her bag of gifts for the others and headed out to meet everyone.
It was only seven o’clock in the evening on a Sunday, but with most of the local schools and co
lleges being on break, there were far more people in the downtown area than was the norm for a Sunday evening.
Laney locked her car after gathering the bag of gifts and began walking to The Turtle. Heading in through the doors, she waved at Big Mike and saw him come around from behind the busy bar to hug her.
Big Mike wasn’t big horizontally, which was what most people thought when they heard his name. He was six foot seven, lanky and thin. Most people also assumed he had played basketball when he had gone to college for business management. Ironically enough, he had played football in college as the quarterback and led his team to multiple championships.
“Hey, gorgeous! How have you been?” the bar owner greeted her with a smile and hugged her tight.
“Good, thanks. How’s the influx of customers going for you?” She gestured around the bar at the amount of people squeezed in tightly, waiting on their drink orders.
“It’s going well,” he answered. One of the bartenders called out to him. “Gotta run. I’ll try and check on you guys in a bit.” He walked over to give assistance to his employee.
Heading out the side door that led onto the outside deck, she saw that Tate and Lawson had already arrived and were seated at a table. She greeted them and they exchanged hugs before she sat down beside Lawson.
That left Foster and Zach as the last two to arrive since Raine and Mac were enjoying themselves on their honeymoon. Laney knew they were probably having a blast … and probably going at it like rabbits, too. Hell, if she had a hot guy with her on a tropical island, she’d be having all kinds of sex with him, too.
And, really? What the hell? She merely thought of sex, of herself having it, and what happens? Zach walks through the door to where they were seated.
With a glance at the dark sky above her, Laney mumbled, “Really?” Because, God surely had a wicked sense of humor. And what the heck was the deal with Zach looking like that? He was in a pair of very dark-washed jeans, a leather belt that accentuated his trim waist, and—wait a minute—a maroon-colored button-down shirt?
“Aww, how cuuuuute! Twinsies!” Lawson exclaimed. “Did you two call each other on the phone and plan your outfits? A-dor-a-ble!” he sang the last word and clasped his hands together.
Tate grinned. “But, really. This,” she waved a hand between Laney and Zach, “is pretty coincidental.” She giggled. “You’re just missing the black sweater, Zach.”
“Ha, ha, freaking ha,” Zach muttered, setting his bag down at the foot of the chair he slid into—the chair beside Tate which had been one of two chairs available.
And obviously not choosing the available chair right beside her.
Message received, loud and clear.
* * *
He noticed the quick flash of hurt on Laney’s face when he chose the open chair next to Tate. She had masked it quickly, but he still caught it. And he didn’t care.
Okay, that was a lie. He was working on not caring. On shutting those feelings down, locking them up tight.
“I saw Foster’s truck just as I was walking up so he should be here soon.” Zach avoided looking in Laney’s direction. “Anyone want anything from the bar? I’m going to get a beer.”
Lawson nodded. “Sounds good, man. The usual for me.”
“I think I’ll just have a water tonight.” Tate’s eyes darted uneasily from Zach to Laney.
Zach turned his gaze to Laney, focusing on a point over her shoulder. “Anything for you?” His voice was casual and he was proud at how collected he sounded.
“The usual, please?” Her answer came out more as a question, tentative and so unlike Laney that his gaze almost slipped to meet her eyes. Almost.
“Got it.” He stood abruptly to get their drinks.
“Actually, I’ll give you a hand.” He heard Lawson follow him and the two of them walked through the side door.
Making their way to the end of the bar where they saw Big Mike, he caught sight of them and came over. “What’re you guys drinking tonight?”
Zach gave him their order, adding Foster’s usual beer to the list. He watched as Big Mike filled the order and waited. Waited on what was sure to come.
“Soooo,” Lawson dragged out the word. “Your strategy is to not sit near her, not make eye contact and, last but not least, be all matchy-matchy with her outfit?” Lawson held up his hands, palms facing Zach. “I mean, I don’t have anything against it, but it really wasn’t what I was expecting.
“Can I just add that if you’re planning on taking this whole dress-like-Laney thing seriously I would highly, and I mean highly, advise against adding makeup to your look? Because, dude, I have to be honest. Your skin is great. You’re like one of those true beauties—”
“Laws.” Zach gave him a death glare. “Enough.”
“Oooh! I bet she would find that low, growly voice sexy. Why don’t I go get her right now?”
Resisting the urge to slap the smile off his friend’s face was painful. Downright pain-ful.
He inhaled deeply, in an attempt to calm himself. “Remind me again why we’re friends?”
Lawson just laughed and slapped him on the back. “Because you know the truth, Z. That I kid because I care,” Lawson told him with a wide, toothy grin.
“Any chance you could start caring less?”
“Mmmm, let me think. Nope.”
Zach released a long, drawn out sigh, shaking his head with a dry laugh. “That’s what I thought.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“I LOVE IT! THANK YOU, Fos!” Tate shot out of her chair to run around and hug him, still holding the set of earrings he had bought her. They were dangly, two thin, silver wisps curling into the shape of a heart at the tail end.
“Well, done, bro.” Laney patted him on the shoulder. “I’m impressed.”
“Well, hell. My gift is going to pale in comparison to that,” Lawson grumbled but she could see his lips twitching, fighting a smile. These guys always liked to try and top one another’s gifts. It was a total testosterone ridden competition.
“I only have this.” He tossed an envelope onto the table at Tate’s place.
Returning to her seat, Tate glanced at the envelope curiously. “Please tell me it isn’t a gift card for the adult toy superstore.”
“Of course it isn’t,” Lawson scoffed. Then he flung a thumb in Laney’s direction. “I saved that for the dirty girl over there.”
“Hey!”
Lawson met her gaze with a raised eyebrow. “Really? Like you wouldn’t like that?”
“Well, it isn’t my fault no one can make a durable vibrator that won’t burn out every six months!”
Lawson stared at her. “You need help. It’s okay to ask for it.”
Her brother leaned away from her, staring, face wrinkled in disgust. “I did not need to hear that.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Whatever. You forget that you used what was left on my gift card last year to spend it on something for your latest little DW.”
“DW?” Lawson was confused.
“Dirty whore,” Tate supplied without hesitation.
“Ahhh.” Lawson nodded. “Catchy. I like it. Very useful.” Suddenly, his eyes lit up. “Speaking of useful, we could almost say someone used a certain someone else like a DW recently.”
That fucker.
Her eyes narrowed on him in irritation. “I think we should get back to exchanging gifts,” she told him through clenched teeth.
She felt her brother’s curious gaze on her but ignored it as she and Lawson had a little stare down, which really consisted of her glaring at him and him giving her a cheeky grin in return.
Tate noisily ripped open her envelope from Lawson and instantly threw her head back in a laugh. “Thanks, Lawson,” she said. “For the gift card to the Namaste store so I can get, and I quote, ‘more yoga workout clothes and shit’.”
“Nice, dude,” Foster chuckled.
“You’re up, Laney.” Lawson pointed to the pile of gifts in front of her she still
had to open.
She picked up the first small, rectangular box from the pile. She smiled as she read the tag aloud, “From Tate.” Opening the box with the bow stuck on the top, inside she saw a beautiful, shiny, teal blue colored cellphone cover. It had tiny hand-painted dolphins on it.
With a gasp, she turned to her friend. “Tate, it’s beautiful!” Looking down at the case again, she said, “It’s almost too pretty to use.”
“Oh, please. I bought it for you to use,” Tate said.
After thanking her best friend, she opened the rest of her gifts. Lawson had given her a gift card to—wait for it—the adult toy superstore, her brother had given her a tiny dolphin key chain since they would exchange the bulk of their gifts with their mother on Christmas day. And, shocker, Zach had given her a small gift bag with diarrhea medicine, travel deodorant, and a small travel pack of tampons.
Same old douche move. Every year it was the same theme: she stunk, was shitty, and menstruating. So why was she disappointed?
Brushing off the feeling, she forced a smile. “Thanks, Zach,” came her curt reply. He merely nodded in her direction, still avoiding eye contact.
* * *
Zach couldn’t look at her, couldn’t let her see that he felt like an ass for giving her that gift bag after all that had transpired between them.
“But, wait a minute,” Lawson spoke up, sounding confused, his gaze landing on Zach. “I thought there was more?”
Laney let out what sounded like a forced laugh before gesturing to the gifts from Zach. “I think this is quite enough, Laws.”
Zach met his friend’s gaze imploringly, begging him not to say anything. Lawson looked at him oddly before turning to Foster.
“Hey, Fos. Do you know what Zach’s favorite flower is?”
Puzzled, Foster spoke slowly. “Uh, I didn’t realize he was into flowers.”
Lawson ignored Zach’s icy stare. “Yeah, man. His favorite flower is a pansy.” Lawson’s eyes met his on the last word.
