“What the hell are you talking about?” I squint into Bry, partially because I know I’m about to get schooled.
“You know.” She averts her eyes at my stupidity. Brylee has long since been kind enough to spell things out for me. “It’s when a girl helps out two guys at the same time with their—”
“Stop.” I slam my hands up over my ears and repeat the words,skiing is a wholesome sport, over and over, until my heart stops palpitating from her wayward verbal assault. That’s the thing with Bry, not only does she call it like she sees it, but she sees far too much for me to ever care to know.
“It is fine.” Kennedy smirks. “Because right after I told him that, I had Charlie slit his tires.”
“That’s the sister I know and love.” I’d offer her a high five, but judging by her NASCAR driving skills, all fingers are required on deck.
Kennedy takes a sharp turn as we head toward the chi-chi day spa Beverly likes to frequent.
“I hate cheaters,” she laments as she screeches into the valet parking queue, nearly taking out the attendant.
Brylee pops her head between the two of us and openly glares at me with her eyes jetting out like hardboiled eggs. “I hate cheaters, too.”
“Would you stop?” I balk at her. “I’m not a cheater. And don’t do that thing with your eyes. It’s freaky.”
Brylee raises a penciled brow at me. “Nobody said you were.”
I’mnota cheater. But if I’m not, why do I feel sick to my stomach when I think of Ace and Warren taking up the same breathing space?
Maybe I should break things off with Warren—just to be clear. I guess that’s me admitting we’re sort of together.
I hate it when Kennedy and Brylee turn out to be right.
The Lux Spa in Collingsworth is a modern day architectural marvel. The facility, itself, is enshrined in jasper and gold thus garnering Beverly’s seal of approval for its fusion of precious stones and alloys. The entire place holds the heavenly scent of lavender and the memory of fresh ocean breezes. There’s even a seventeen-foot statue of Michelangelo’s David in the foyer that we traditionally pause to worship because his anatomy is so stunningly vulgar.
Brylee looks up wide-eyed and amazed. “His dick is as long as my forearm.” She says it as a fact.
“My new boyfriend.” Kennedy declares while she steps underneath him and snaps a selfie.
“So”—Brylee hooks her elbow with mine as we make our way to the check in—“what happened after dark? Are you holding back the dirty deets?”
“Nothing,” I’m quick to say as we store our purses and shoes into our lockers and exchange our clothes for plush, white robes. “He was a perfect gentleman.” The memory of his tongue smoothing over mine for hours sends me into a private heat wave. “We kissed.” I stop short of adding it was no big deal because every part of me knows full well it was a verybigdeal—as big as David’s man hammer, but I choose not to drag Kennedy’s new boyfriend into the picture.
Ace and those things we did last night come rushing back to me. It felt comfortable, familiar—we were Reese and Ace just like old times with some tonsil hockey thrown into the mix. My face heats up ten degrees. I may have accidently told him that I loved him, and he confessed that I was his special someone. Only, it sounds better than it was because we were both talking out of context.
“Youkissed?” Kennedy flashes her boobs to get a rise out of me, and I avert my eyes at her sophomoric efforts. The truth is I’ve seen her boobs more than I’ve seen mine. Kennedy likes to resort to flashing when she’s fresh out of ways to offend me. “Did he whip it out and let you hold it?”
“I’m ignoring that. And, by the way, your nipples are like twelve times the size they’re supposed to be.” There. Maybe if I give her a nipple complex, she’ll lay off on the bazooka assault for a while. I shake out my hair as we head into the salon. “Like I said, Ace is a gentleman.” We take seats next to one another as an attendant wheels over a footbath to each of us. “Oh, this feels good,” I groan as my feet slip into the warm, soapy water.
“Is that what you said to him?” Kennedy snickers into Brylee.
“Laugh all you want girls, but I got the real deal in Ace.”
“More like the reallimited timedeal.” Kennedy holds my gaze a moment too long.
“Are you cruising for a bruising?” I’m only half teasing. I’m not above going street on her ass right here in the princess lounge.
“Calm down. I’m just saying you can change that. Once summer wraps up, tell him you’d like an extension on your contract. If you play your cards right andblowhim away, then he’ll practically beg to keep you around.”
I mull it over a second, giving her a pass on the BJ innuendo. Anyway, checking Kennedy on the corruption that comes from her mouth is pretty much useless. There are no bounds to Kennedy’s crudeness.
“File an extension huh?” I look over at my raunchy stepsister. “Way to make my love life sound like an unpleasant IRS transaction.”
“Nevertheless”—Kennedy rolls her head over her neck—“make sure you’re good in bed. That way he’ll come back for more.”
Brylee moans in agreement. “I bet Joanna Knickerbocker is brilliant in bed.” She shakes her head in disgust. “I bet she swallows.”
