CHAPTER TWO #2
Lina’s brows raise in question. “Uh oh. Would you be in trouble depending on his answer?”
We both grimace at the suggestion of us having sex with each other.
“No.” Braxton shakes his head. “But my sister would.”
His piercing glare makes me straighten up. “No, I have not had an STD.”
“What about STIs?” Eden asks, jokingly.
“Haven’t had one of those either.”
Quiet chatter continues between Eden and Meredith about what the difference between the two could be, but Lina’s eyes are still stuck on me.
“Is your definition of a playboy just a guy who likes to have sex?”
“Jesus,” I sigh, looking toward the ceiling, then back at her. “Is there a reason you’re asking?”
“No. Just curious what makes a playboy eligible for the title.”
I can already tell she’s not going to let up, which is why I relent on giving her an answer.
“Well, there are two main kinds of them. The more common one doesn’t know how to get a girl off but somehow drags a fleet of them into bed anyway.
And then there are the ones who strive to make it more enjoyable for those involved and don’t strictly like sex for selfish reasons. ”
She studies me, lips pursed in amusement. “Hmm. That sounds rehearsed.”
“Maybe because I’ve had to say it before,” I shoot back, letting the corner of my mouth twitch up. “It comes with the reputation.”
“That you earned,” she counters, still watching me like she’s trying to decide if I’m full of shit. “But noted.”
It’s clear she’s not impressed—or at least, she’s not acting impressed.
That alone makes her dangerous in a way no other girl has been to me lately.
She’s not playing the game, not asking follow-up questions like she’s fishing for attention.
She just… looks away, as if I’m no more important than a spoon she would use to stir her drink.
And I feel like I’ve been punched.
She then follows with, “Which would you consider yourself to be?”
Braxton laughs under his breath. “Ask any girl on campus, and they’ll tell you.”
Eden chimes in as well. “There are literal Reddit forums about how good in bed he is.”
I’m not surprised. Savannah has read them to me before. Rather than being jealous, she finds them entertaining. Sometimes I do too.
“I aim to please,” is all I decide to add, an amused smirk never leaving my face.
Lina doesn’t seem fazed by the fact, but I watch her think about it before asking, “So you think there are both playboys who are and aren’t good in bed?”
“Totally.”
“Gage would not be considered a playboy , if that’s what you’re asking,” Eden says.
Then Meredith adds, “No. He’s just a douchebag.”
“Gage?” Now I’m curious.
Lina waves me off. “Long story. Not important.”
Eden’s not the best at sensing when somebody doesn’t want to talk about something, though, because she immediately follows with, “Make a long story short. He cheated on you. He’s not a playboy, just an idiot asshole.”
Lina’s back goes rigid as she stands straight again. She becomes so distracted that she forgets about the glass of water still in her hand, because a second later, the sound of glass shattering rings through the kitchen. Lina jolts backward, the back of her thighs hitting the stove behind her.
Braxton and I both move quickly, and while he heads down the hallway to grab the broom from the closet, I round the island.
Knowing there’s glass all over the floor sends me into overdrive.
My brain immediately begins to fire off a list of every worst-case scenario, wondering if there was something I could have done to prevent it.
All I can focus on is the idea of Lina stepping back on a piece of glass or Eden panicking and slipping.
Help them. Help them. Help her, my brain screams.
“Are you okay?” I manage to ask Lina through a measured breath.
Eden and Meredith have already made their way out of the glass-littered kitchen, but Lina? She’s frozen. She also doesn’t answer my question.
Her face is completely void as she stares down at the floor, and I don’t need any more context to the story to know she’s shutting down.
“Lina,” Eden says. “I didn’t mean?—”
“Stop.” I hold out a hand. “Let’s not talk about it anymore.” Clearly, it’s some kind of trigger for her, and she’s already panicking.
I look back down the hallway, searching for where the hell Braxton is with the broom. At the same time, I hear him curse from where he is inside the closet. “God damn it. Where is this thing?”
“Lina,” I try to grab her attention, stepping over the pile of glass.
The cup she dropped was thick, heavy-duty glass. It could be everywhere. Hell, there could be a piece under her heel right now, and she wouldn’t even notice. That thought alone makes me feel like I’m coming out of my skin.
I should’ve stopped this. I should’ve seen it coming.
“Are you okay?” I ask her again, the distance between us much smaller now.
Something snaps, and she looks up at me. “I?—”
I make the decision to do what I would do for any girl in this position. Savannah, my sisters, it doesn’t matter. I loop my arms under her knees and around her shoulders before picking her up, stepping over the glass, and carrying her toward the barstool on the opposite side of the island.
It’s the only thing I can do to get a grasp of the situation. I have to do it for my own sake.
Her black leggings are already low on her waist, part of the waistband folded over itself. I shift her slightly in my hold, trying not to notice the sliver of skin that’s exposed from her crewneck riding up her stomach.
When I set her down on the seat, making sure she’s steady, I can see the moment she blinks out of the fog she was in.
“Shit,” she groans, rubbing her hands over her eyes. “What the fuck?”
Eden and Meredith both take slow steps toward her, while Braxton exits the closet, exhaling, “Fucking finally.”
He must have found the broom.
“Are you okay?” Eden asks her, placing a small hand on her shoulder.
Lina silently nods. “I’m not sure what happened there.”
“You don’t have to talk about it,” Meredith tells her.
“Sorry about the glass,” she says through another long breath.
As I step back, the girls both assure her that it’s fine. Braxton has already gotten a majority of the glass swept up, and he hands me the dustpan to throw away.
When I glance back at Lina, she’s stifling a yawn.
“Do you want to go lie down?” Eden asks, glancing back at the clock on the stove. “It’s a little early for bed, but hey, no judgment.”
Lina shakes her head, standing from the bar stool as she runs both hands down her face. “No. I want to eat dinner.” She turns to look at Eden. “You ordered it, didn’t you?”
“Yup! It should be here any minute,” Eden says.
“Thank God.” She falls backward on the couch, looking relieved.
I toss the last of the glass from the pan into the trash can. Right as I feel myself move to turn back toward Lina, to catch another glimpse of her, I feel Braxton’s hand come down on my shoulder.
“You good?” he asks.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”
He gives me a look. The type that says, “Don’t play dumb with me.”
Before I can say anything about it or try to come up with an excuse for why I’ve been so fixated on Lina, there’s a knock that has Eden rushing toward the front door. “Food’s here!”
And I’m thankful as hell for the distraction.
Eden takes the bags of food over to the coffee table, and we all scatter ourselves between the couch, armchairs, and the floor surrounding the coffee table.
The girls’ apartment has an interesting layout because of the way it goes straight from the hallway to the kitchen and living room.
There isn’t anywhere for a dining table to sit unless you count the island countertop.
Whereas, Braxton’s and my apartment is one of the corner units, making it so that there’s a breakfast nook in the corner of the kitchen.
I slide into a spot on the rug, leaning against the couch in between Lina and Eden from where I sit on the floor.
Lina’s arm reaches over my head, grabbing one of the takeout boxes and pulling it onto her lap. She must notice the way my eyes follow her movement, because she looks toward where I am below her and asks, “Did you want some?” while pointing at her takeout box.
“No, no. It’s all yours.”
“Good, because I wasn’t going to share,” she replies, a hint of teasing in her tone.
For the next few minutes, takeout boxes are passed around the table while everyone takes a bit from each. The only person who kept one completely to themselves is Lina, and the only thing she’s eating is the sweet and sour chicken. That must be why Eden ordered two of them.
Meredith turns on the TV from where she’s sitting on the armrest of Braxton’s chair. His arm is around her, keeping her steady. I notice how every time he goes to take a bite, he offers it to her first.
Lina stands and heads for the kitchen. When she returns, she has a plastic water bottle in hand.
I only decide to say something to her when she goes to set the bottle on the coffee table, extending her arm out and making it so her face is level with mine.
“You okay now?” I ask her quietly.
She gives a half-smile. “I don’t like being surprised by my own reactions.”
“You were fine,” I tell her. “Better than most.” It’s not the full truth, but it’s what I think would make her feel better to hear.
“I broke a cup and forgot how to speak.”
Shrugging, I say, “So?”
She doesn’t reply, only leans back on the couch, her lips lifting in a small, closed-mouth smile. Even with how little I know her, it doesn’t seem real.
It’s not typical for me to linger this long, or to notice someone in the way I’ve noticed her, yet here I am, watching her, wondering what could be different about her.