Chapter 10—Ruby #2
“Two coconut waters.” Kooper’s voice, once again behind me, makes me glare. Damn bastard has to be greedy and get two? He shouldn’t even need them. He barely broke a sweat, so there’s no need to replenish electrolytes. The guy really needs to go die under a rock somewhere.
“Ruby.”
“What?” I don’t even look back as I respond to Kooper.
“Here.”
I turn, and a freaking water bottle hits me dead center in the chest. My arms fly up to catch it, and that’s when I see it’s coconut water.
“Try not to die on the way home,” he says before turning and heading back to who the fuck knows where. When I left the track upstairs, he was still stretching. He never said I should, too, but the look he gave me pushed me to run down the stairs faster just to spite him.
I glance at Jordan, whose bugged-out eyes likely mirror my own. Kooper is an ass. A complete and utter ass.
But I’m not about to turn down a free drink.
I’m on a college paycheck, after all. Meaning I have nothing, and anything free is amazing.
I’ve never drunk coconut water before. It’s not good.
Like at all. But I keep it and drink it on the way home.
Not the wasteful type, despite how much of a smile it brings to my lips to think I can just throw this out the window as a screw you to Kooper. Not that he would know, or care.
But if he didn’t care, why did he buy it for you in the first place?
My inner beast has a point. One I refuse to think about any longer as I pull up just as Dad does, and everything else is forgotten as I soak in some much-needed solo time with my pops.
“Hey, Nat, you home? I brought pizza,” I singsong as I walk into the apartment.
“And guests,” Abigail chirps from behind me as she shuts the door.
“You’re not a guest. You’re family,” I say as I put the pizza down and open it up to grab a slice. I burn my mouth on the first bite and have to breathe through my mouth as I pant, but I refuse to let the piece in my hand go.
“More like another roommate.” Natalie smiles as she comes to the living area after shutting her door behind her.
She always keeps it closed. I never say anything because I know she isn’t dealing or something crazy like that.
Trust me, I’d know. And she doesn’t give me shit when I don’t speak up on things that I’m sure seem odd about me.
Like sometimes leaving at a moment’s notice to help with the club or something and not filling her in.
When I got the head injury, I just said I fell.
Nothing more. She knew I was at the seminar where the shooting happened.
She was meant to come, too, just for support, but ended up not going.
She never asked if I was there. Never questions anything I do, or who I bring home.
Which isn’t that often, but it usually happens once or twice a month. And it’s always Abigail.
“That’s true. Hey, you think we can start charging her rent?” I say.
Nat shrugs. “Only if she springs for the electric bill.”
“Ugh, again? I swear we just paid it,” I groan.
“That’s the thing about bills, honey. It’s a monthly issue.”
“We really should start stripping,” I mumble around another bite.
“I’ve seen you dance, Ruby. You ain’t got the moves.” Abigail grins as she picks up her own slice, blowing on it enough to take a bite and not swat at her melting tongue.
“Kitten’s dance group offered to give me lessons.” I pout.
“Which one is Kitten again?” Natalie asks as she picks off the black olives.
Which is fine, since I put them on my pizza.
She likes pepperoni, and I like black olives.
So, naturally, we get both, and she deals with it.
We could do half and half, but I end up bingeing on pizza during gaming nights.
Like I plan to tonight with a new gaming friend—whose username is Bowser, so it won’t last long.
And why should we have to have a slice without olives?
Okay, I sound like a bitch even to my own ears, but Nat’s cool about it.
Plus, I’m the one who splurges on the pizza every time.
A rule we made freshman year. The person who buys gets to decide, and the other can eat it and not complain or go without.
It’s not perfect, but it’s never been an issue for us.
There’s a reason Nat’s my roommate. We get along better than anyone else I know, even if I don’t know everything about her.
That might be the reason it works so well.
We’re close and yet still complete strangers in other ways.
“Kitten is the one with amnesia and goes by Jules. She’s with Flint. And her best friend Bailey—who’s now Troublemaker, it seems—is with Gator.”
“When did that happen?” Abigail asks.
I shake my head at both of them. “If you guys didn’t keep ditching me for the vet internship and whatever coffee thing you had going on, you’d know this shit.”
Abigail shrugs. “Need the money.”
Natalie just puts more pizza into her mouth.
She was meant to come with me the other night to watch M perform and then to hang out at the club.
M is a pop-up dance group that Kitten, Troublemaker, and the rest of the original Misfits are in that does dance numbers while a movie plays.
A mix between Broadway and Rocky Horror Picture Show, but in a random location, and they never do the same show more than once.
The other night was another epic performance, but everyone was all coupled up.
I was madder about being the only single lady to talk to than Natalie ghosting me.
“Oh, that reminds me. Troublemaker has a lingerie store. Check this out.” I pull out my phone and go to her website.
“It’s called A Little Spice. Aren’t they just to die for?
” I show them the clothing line that I earmarked.
I have about ten lingerie sets in my cart ready to go, but then I saw she had a clothing line too.
It’s small, but I know she can grow with it.
I already have a few ideas to ask her to make.
And then give me a discount on. This shit’s not cheap, and Daddy Dearest, while he loves me, doesn’t treat me like the spoiled princess some biker brothers think I am.
I get an allowance for bills and a small “fun money” fund.
I’ve been saving up that fun section for a while, waiting to splurge on a new game or Lego set, but nothing’s grabbing my attention. Well, not till now anyway.
“Ooh, that’s cute. Think Troublemaker would extend the friends and family discount?” Abigail wags her eyebrows as she takes the phone and starts looking through the website.
I shrug. “You’ve got to show up to be considered family.”
“Touché, my friend, touché. I’ll be there at the next gathering. Just tell me when.”
I smile and look at Natalie. She takes a second, but then she nods.
She’s in too. Good. ’Cause I really can’t have the old ladies getting any ideas.
As it is, they keep harassing me about not having a guy.
If I don’t get some backup, the next time I show, I might get set up on a blind date.
They’re just crazy enough to think it’s a good idea.
Despite that my dad’s the president of the club and will skin any man alive for looking at me in any way other than friendship.
Unless it’s Kooper. Then Dad allows any looks he gives me since he’s paid to do so.
I’ve really got to ask how much he’s charging. Because whatever it is, I’m worth more. I’m a real peach. A bright shiny one that’s full of sugary sweetness and a pit that’s hard to the core.