Chapter 14
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
Charli
“Why are you so pissy?”
I look across the small bistro table at Sommer and exhale. “I’m not.”
She laughs at me, obviously not believing me for a second, and sips her iced coffee. “You are. You’ve been mumbling to yourself for the last two minutes and tore the hell out of the napkin in your hand.”
I glance down and realize she’s right. The napkin I received with my muffin is torn into tiny shreds of paper. Sighing, I sweep the confetti into the palm of my hand and walk over to the trash can to dispose of it. When I drop back down in my chair, I lean forward, ready to spill my guts.
Sommer knows it’s coming too, because she leans in so we’re not overheard.
“I slept with him again.”
She rolls her eyes. “Of course you did. I could practically feel the Big Dick Energy pouring out of him last night while we were shooting pool. I’m actually surprised you didn’t sneak off to one of the supply closets or up to Lizzie’s apartment upstairs before the end of the night.
The fact you made it all the way back to your condo tells me your willpower is much stronger than I expected. ”
“Sommer, I can’t keep doing this.”
“What? Feeding the kitty?” she teases, a smirk on her face.
“This isn’t funny,” I mutter, taking a long pull from my straw and sighing when the sweet cream and caramel iced coffee hits my tongue.
“I’m not laughing. I’m actually jealous,” she whispers.
I cross my legs beneath the table and then recross them the other way. “The worst part is, after…you know, I wanted him to stay.” The confession feels massive, leaving me vulnerable and afraid.
“Well, if the sex is as good as you’ve insinuated, I’d consider asking him to stay too,” she reasons.
“No, Sommer. I mean, yes, the sex is out of this world, but that’s not why I wanted him to stay.” I take a deep breath and whisper my truth, “I wanted him to cuddle me.”
Her eyes widen and her mouth drops open. “Holy shit!”
“Yeah,” I mutter, taking another long sip of my drink. At this rate, I’m going to need a second one very soon.
“But…you hate snuggling,” she proclaims quietly.
“I know!”
“Wow, he must have some voodoo dick or something,” she blurts out, and fortunately, there’s no one else at the coffee shop at this point on Sunday afternoon. But there’s still a snicker, and I’m pretty sure it comes from the young woman working behind the counter.
“Keep it down,” I whisper just as the door opens.
Oaklee comes in, her hair pulled up high on her head. “Sorry, I’m late. Let me grab a drink and a muffin.”
I watch her walk to the counter to place her order and lean in once more. “She doesn’t know, so don’t say anything.”
“Got it,” my friend states, slurping her drink.
“Okay, what’d I miss?” Oaklee asks, dropping into a third seat at the bistro table with her muffin on a plate.
“We were just talking about riding the bologna pony.”
I choke on my iced coffee and almost spit it out across the table. Would serve her and her big mouth right though.
“Why do you think I’m late?” Oaklee asks, a satisfied little grin on her pretty face.
“Oh my God!” I bellow. “Why? Why did you have to say that? He’s my brother!”
Oaklee shrugs and takes a bite of her muffin. “He’s not my brother.”
Sommer holds up her hand for a high five, which Oaklee happily gives. When I glare at her, she says, “What? Women are supposed to support each other.”
“Yes, but not when the…pony is my brother. I do not want to hear about it,” I state, shoveling a massive bite of my own muffin into my mouth.
Oaklee shrugs. “Sorry.” After a beat, she adds, “But just for the record, he’s more of a horse. There’s nothing small about him.”
If the ground could open up and swallow me whole, that’d be great.
Shoving my fingertips into my ears, I sing loudly so I can’t hear anything else she has to say. “So nasty,” I mutter when it appears they’re done torturing me.
“Oh, he can get nasty,” she whispers, enjoying my torture far too much.
“You know what, you’re not my friend anymore,” I insist, standing up and walking away from the table.
Sommer and Oaklee both beg me to come back, but I keep going, straight to the counter to retrieve Oaklee’s iced coffee. I grab a straw, slap it through the hole on top, and return to our table. Before I set it down, I take a big gulp of her drink.
“Hey!” she bellows, grabbing her iced coffee from my hand.
“Serves you right.”
“Fine,” she mutters, wiping off the tip of her straw and taking her own drink. “I won’t talk about sex with your brother anymore.”
“Thank you.”
“But I still want to know who we were talking about then.”
My mind blanks as I look over at Sommer.
“You said you guys were talking about riding the bologna pony. Who went for the ride?” she asks, glancing between me and my bestie.
Sommer and her big fat fucking mouth.
“Oh, that was me. Totally had sex last night,” Sommer announces, and I feel myself take a deep breath and relax.
“Really? Someone you met at the bar?” Oaklee asks, her eyes wide as she waits for the answer.
I appreciate my friend bailing me out here, but we wouldn’t even be in this predicament if she wouldn’t have opened her damn mouth.
“Yep.”
“Who? Do I know him? Oh, was it that guy who was sitting at the bar with the two other guys? The dark-haired one with green eyes. Wait, it wasn’t the one who was good-looking but laughed really loud, right?
The super cocky one that Cade kept saying was a complete douche.
I don’t know him, but he strikes me as the type of guy who regularly gets shots of penicillin, if you know what I mean. ”
“Eww, no. Rodney? He’s a total player and whores around.
He’s most definitely had a shot or two over the years,” Sommer confirms. Rodney is a serial cheater, using his charms to get in the pants of anyone and everyone.
Usually, he hangs at The Tall One, because everyone at Lizzie’s bar thinks he’s nasty.
Sommer looks relieved. “Okay, good. So who?” Then her eyes widen. “Was it Quinn?”
“What?” I ask, shocked by her question.
Oaklee shrugs and takes a drink. “He’s gorgeous,” she reasons. “And single. And I know Collin took you three home last night at the end of the night.”
“But…he’s like five years younger than her,” I state, pointing out the obvious.
“So?” Oaklee doesn’t seem fazed by the age difference. “Age is just a number. Plus, I hear the stamina is over the top at that age. Not that I have any complaints on stamina with my thirty-three-year-old. You know, if I were to share any of that dirt.” She winks at Sommer, who just laughs.
“You’re making her uncomfortable again,” my friend teases.
“My point is, if you want to sleep with Quinn, sleep with him. He’s a great guy, good-looking, and I’m sure he’ll treat you well. Everyone loves him,” Oaklee gushes, taking a quick drink of her iced coffee. “Well, everyone but Charli.”
My cheeks feel hot as I gape at the woman sitting next to me. “What?”
“Well, it’s obvious he pushes your buttons,” she reasons.
“Yes, but—”
“Good thing you don’t have to worry about him anymore. Not if your bestie is doing the dirty with him. He won’t even have time to think about bugging you if he’s—”
“I’m the one sleeping with him, not Sommer!” I whisper-yell. Realization sets in, and I can feel that blush turn into a full-fledged mortification burn.
“I totally knew it,” Oaklee replies with a grin, smugly sipping her iced coffee.
“What?” I ask, gaping back at the woman to my left.
“Oh, you totally have that ‘I just had really good sex’ face, and when Sommer tried to cover for you and say it was her, I noticed your eye twitching. That’s your tell.”
My mouth drops open. “I do not have a tell.”
“Yes, you do,” Sommer replies with a chuckle. “Right here,” she adds, tapping the underside of her eye. “It gets all twitchy.”
“It does that when Quinn is bugging you too,” Oaklee informs me.
“I can’t believe this,” I mutter to myself, finishing off my drink and then standing to go order a second. “I need another.”
“Go. This way, we have a few minutes to talk about you,” Oaklee blurts out, instantly turning her attention to Sommer, who leans in close as if to share all the dirty details.
I sigh, realizing my mistake immediately. I’m usually much cooler under pressure, but Quinn Garrison is an expert at getting under my skin.
And in my pants, apparently.
“What can I get ya?” the barista asks when I approach.
I want to order another iced coffee, but my bladder would appreciate something other than caffeine. “I’ll take a large peach passion refresher, please,” I request, pulling more cash from my pocket.
“Five oh two, please,” she says, taking my cash and placing the change on the counter.
While she turns around to make my second drink, I slip the money in the tip jar and pop my hip against the counter.
It doesn’t take her very long, and within a minute or two, she’s placing my second drink on the counter. “Here ya go.”
“Thank you,” I reply, grabbing a straw and returning to the table.
“Come on,” Sommer states, standing up as I approach.
“Where are we going?” I ask the two.
“Lizzie’s,” Oaklee announces. “She’s working, so we thought we’d drop in for a visit.”
“Should I grab her a drink?” I ask.
“Oh, good idea,” Oaklee replies.
After we grab a strawberry refresher for Lizzie, we step outside and prepare to walk down the block to The Tipsy Lizard. It’s not far, so there’s no reason to move our vehicles when it really won’t get us much closer.
The moment we reach the sidewalk, Oaklee’s phone rings. She pulls it from her pocket and taps on the screen. It’s obviously my brother, if the dopey grin on her face is any indication. “Hey, handsome,” she says, stepping to the side to take her call.
We slow our pace to give Oaklee a little privacy, and my brain is still firmly in inappropriate territory with thoughts of Quinn. “He called me Charlotte.”
She glances at me in confusion. “Who?”
“Quinn,” I reply, frustrated. “And you know I hate when someone uses my full first name.”