17. June
JUNE
Once we’re inside the small private room, I close the door behind us and give my friend a pointed look. “Are you okay?”
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?” Lexie tosses back at me. “I don’t know what that was, but I do not approve, and I am so sorry he was acting like an ass. If it’s any help, he’s all talk. Not that it’s an excuse, but you know what I mean.”
Is he? Is he all talk? I want to push. I won’t, though. It’s not her fault her brother appears unstable. And speaking of which…
I purse my lips, unsure whether or not opening a second can of worms is a good idea.
Fiddling with her shirt, Lexie finally says, “There a problem, June? You look like you’re about to crap your scrubs.”
Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it.
“Since when do you ask for permission to do…anything?” I ask.
Welp. I said it.
With a frown, Lexie stops fiddling and looks up at me. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh, wise one, can we please go clean my teeth?” I mimic her.
She waves me off. “I was joking.”
“Were you?” I push.
“Yes, I was, okay? And even if I wasn’t, my brother’s a little amped up because we’re in Harden territory, and I was trying to de-escalate. No big deal.”
Feels like a big deal. And since when is it Lexie’s job to corral her brother’s emotions?
“Is he still living with you?” I question. “Because if you want to stay in Violet’s room, I’m sure—”
“I said I’m fine,” she repeats with a look that makes me feel like I just might’ve grown a second head since stepping into this room. “Now, are you going to clean my teeth or not?”
I know what she’s doing. She wants me to drop it.
To let go of whatever weird incident just unfolded in the waiting room, along with the venom in Ethan’s tone.
Maybe I should. It’s none of my business, and Violet was right the other day.
Lexie’s a big girl. She knows how to handle herself. She also knows she isn’t alone.
Doesn’t she?
Lips pursed, I motion to the dental chair, and she plops into it like a sack of potatoes.
After snagging a pair of nitrile exam gloves, I set up the station for a cleaning, well aware I’ll have to sanitize the one I originally planned to use for her appointment in one of the open areas until I realized Ethan would be waiting for her in the front of the building.
“So, how was the auction?” Lexie asks. “You and Jeep, huh?”
Jeep. As in, Ford.
“It’s not like that,” I mutter.
“What do you mean?”
Oh, the things I could say.
“Yes, Ford bid on me,” I explain, “but I think he was kind of just messing with Bryan or whatever. You know how he is.” I wave my hand about.
“And then Ethan made a comment to get under Ford’s skin.
Ford threw down big money to make a point, and Bryan had to drop out, which is the only reason Ford won.
” I snag a sterile pack of scalers, curettes, and a dental mirror from the drawer and open the package.
Setting aside the scalers and curettes, since I won’t be needing those until I graduate, I snag the mirror and set it up on the small metal tray in front of me.
“What did Ethan say?” Lexie asks.
I nearly choke on my groan as I hold onto my indifference for dear life. “Nothing—”
“June,” she pushes.
Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.
Putting a fresh straw on the suction, I murmur, “It was just a rude comment.”
“Of course, it was.” With a sigh, she mutters, “We don’t have to get into it, but I’m sorry he was being a jerk. At the auction and here.”
“You already apologized,” I remind her. “And it’s okay—”
“It’s not,” she argues. “But I can’t control my brother any more than I can control the weather.
” Her sigh feels heavy. Heavier than it should.
As if she’s carrying the weight of the world on her pretty little shoulders.
“If I had to guess what was going through his mind, he probably saw Jeep bid on you and figured the easiest way to piss off a Harden was to go after the people they care about, even if it’s a low blow. ”
It’s the same thought I’ve had, no matter how much I don’t like the justification of his actions.
What’s the saying again? Oh, right. If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.
And to have a target painted on my back all because Jeep—I mean, Ford—likes to tease me every once in a while? I don’t know. It feels…hollow, somehow.
Unsure what to say, I offer, “Maybe.”
“Definitely,” Lexie counters.
I bite my tongue to keep from arguing with her. Besides, it’s no use.
“Thanks for…not taking my familial ties to him out on me,” she adds.
“It’s not your fault.”
She doesn’t believe me. I can see it plain as day. Seems we’re taking turns with the same sentiment.
“Doesn’t make it any easier when he’s being an ass,” she tells me.
Lexie’s right. It doesn’t. Ethan’s a jerk, and we all deserve better than being obligated to spend even a second of our time with the guy.
But it’s easier for me than it is for her.
At least I don’t live with him. Lexie, on the other hand?
He won’t even let her leave his sight for a simple dental cleaning.
Reaching for the bib, I set it on Lexie’s chest to keep her shirt clean, then clip the opposite side to keep it in place. “Okay, what kind of toothpaste do you want?”
“What flavors do you have?”
Oh, the flavors I could name.
My mouth curves up. “Because this is a pediatric office, you name it, we probably have it.”
“What about chocolate?”
I roll my eyes. “Okay, we don’t have chocolate.”
“Fiiiine.” She beams back at me, grateful for the subject change. “I guess I’ll have bubblegum.”
Of course, she will.
As I scrounge in the cupboard for the flavor in question, Lexie says, “So, how’d Fireman Bryan handle it?”
I scoot the watermelon flavor to the right. “Handle what?"
“The loss,” she clarifies. “Talk about a hit to the ego.”
“He’s fine.”
Found it.
I pick up the bubblegum prophypaste and set it on the metal tray beside me. “He invited me to an annual cook-off for his work next Saturday and asked if I’d donate some chili since he knows how much I like to cook, so…that’s good, I think.”
“Aw, how cute!” Lexie gushes. “So, he’s not worried?”
“Why would he be worried?”
“I don’t know.” She scoots a little lower in the dental chair, making herself at home. “Because you’re gorgeous, and Jeep is clearly interested in you.”
“Ford is not interested in me.”
“Then why’d he bid on you?”
“He bid on me to piss off Fire—Bryan,” I catch myself at the last instant. “And to beat your brother for poking the bear.”
“So, he’s not interested?” she challenges.
I shake my head, sliding my clear glasses into place. We use them to keep toothpaste or yesterday’s food from flying into our eyes. Yeah, no thank you. And right now? They’re serving a second purpose in disguising how unsettled I am.
“And what about you?” she continues as I peel the wrapper from the top of the little cup of bubblegum prophypaste. “Are you interested?”
My body freezes. “In Ford?”
She nods.
The question alone is comical. So much so, I can’t keep the amusement from bubbling out of me.
“What? That’s funny?” she teases.
“Me? Being interested in a guy like Ford? Yeah.” I giggle even harder. “It’s hilarious.”
“And why is it funny?”
“Because I’m me, and Ford is Ford,” I tell her. “And yeah, he is super smart and absolutely gorgeous, okay? I’m not blind, but…”
“What’s the problem?”
“The problem is, I’m not someone who dates around just for the heck of it, and Ford’s not boyfriend material. He doesn’t even want to be boyfriend material.”
She tilts her head toward me more, causing her gorgeous dark hair to rub against the dental chair. “And how do you know that?”
About a dozen reasons come to mind, along with the image of him dancing backstage with a random girl after the auction.
He looked so…natural with her. Laughing.
Teasing. Spinning her, then tugging her into him.
It’s like pure charisma flows through his veins, and he has no issue doling it out to anyone and everyone.
Shoving the memory aside, I stick with the most obvious example as to why he would be a terrible boyfriend.
“Because he flirts with anything that walks.”
“So?”
“So, I couldn’t be with a guy who treats every girl the same way he treats me.”
Well, dang. Even I didn’t see that coming.
The word vomit or the transparency. I didn’t even think I really considered it.
Ford as anything other than a friend of a friend.
Okay, that’s a lie. Of course, I’ve considered it.
You’d have to be blind not to wonder what it would be like to be with someone like him.
Sexually. Emotionally. My brows pull, and I pick up the prophy brush, moving it toward Lexie’s face in hopes of ending the conversation.
“So you admit he flirts with you,” she says.
I move the tools away from her. “He flirts with everyone!”
The same bob hits her head. “He doesn’t flirt with me.”
She’s right. He doesn’t flirt with her in the slightest, but that’s beside the point. “Maybe you’re the exception.”
“And why would I be the exception?” she counters.
“Because he refuses to step on Hawke’s toes.”
Her eyes bulge. “Oh, we’re going there, are we?”
“Mm-hmm,” I quip. “We sure are.”
“Okay, just so we’re clear, Robin—”
“Aka Hawke,” I clarify.
Her gaze narrows. “Robin,” she repeats, using the strange nickname she gifted Hawke with, “is nothing but a creepy stalker who likes to hang out while I’m at work and give the evil eye to any customer who even looks at me.
To say it’s a complication is a massive understatement.
Now, is he harmless? Yes. Is he sexy? Also, yes.
But is there any universe, and I mean any universe,” she emphasizes, “where I would let anything happen between me and Robin? Why, no. No, there is not. You and Jeep, on the other hand…”
“I wouldn’t be dating Bryan if I didn’t think it could turn into a long and happy and monogamous relationship,” I remind her.
“So, you admit you two aren’t official yet?”
Not even close. We’ve only been on a couple of dates, and we’ve barely been to second base, but still. Would I actively pursue anyone else? Would I give in if someone actively pursued me? Not at all.
Waving her manicured finger an inch from my nose, Lexie says, “Called it.”
I swat her hand away. “Just because we aren’t official doesn’t mean I want Ford as anything but a friend.”
“Friend,” she repeats as if tasting the word.
“Friend,” I toss back at her, my tone thick with resolution. “Now, open your mouth so I can start your cleaning.”
Grumbling under her breath, she does as she’s instructed, and I get to work.