She sees the jealousy, and it pisses me off. Men aren’t a part of my trajectory right now. Although sex is. It’s been a long time. The last guy was over three months ago, and it lasted maybe a month. God, all I am doing is making myself horny, and that is not helpful.
My phone rings, making me jump. Speak of the devil herself.
“Hey.”
“Wow, I’m surprised you picked up. You’ve been leaving me on read and not answering voicemails. You’ve been avoiding the compound.”
“Whatever gave you that impression.”
“I’m not taking no for an answer. Girl’s night at my place tomorrow. Hudson is in New York.”
“I got a new case, things are going to get busy.”
“All the more reason to blow off some steam beforehand,” Waverley says.
I can practically hear the smile on her face. She’s been a different person since she moved into the house with Hudson.
“Fine, but we’re staying at the house, right?”
“Of course,” she scoffs. “Dirt is throwing a party for one of the guy’s birthdays. The club girls will be out in force. I avoid that crap like the plague.”
It makes me a little sick thinking of what goes on there when the guys all get fucked up and rowdy. I’ve never seen Handlebar act the way the others do, and Waverley has told me more than once he doesn’t do those things.
The thought of seeing him screwing some random woman who hangs around just to get laid by any brother who looks sideways at them, makes my blood boil.
“Be at the house at eight, bring a bottle and plan on staying over.”
She hangs up before I can reply. I have a choice. Just because she’s avoided letting me answer doesn’t mean I can’t stay home.
I’ll be there. It’ll be nice to see the girls. And mom. No one else.
And certainly not the sexy mechanic.
“I mean, I considered getting them reduced but they do have their uses,” Nessa winks at us.
Waverley busts up laughing. I’m still staring at Nessa’s tits. She’s holding them at the bottom, raising them even higher than her bra does. She keeps looking from the left to the right one, and back again.
“I always wanted bigger boobs when I was younger,” Waverley says. “But I like mine, they’re just right.” She doesn’t need to add that Hudson is happy with them, it’s written all over her rosy face.
“Ugh, they can be good for some activities,” Nessa lets one go and gives the other a baleful stare. “But most of the time, they get in the way. Getting clothes that fit is a nightmare and under boob sweat,” she pulls a face. “Is a very real thing.”
My nose wrinkles at that. How did we end up talking about Nessa’s boobs? Well, probably the two bottles of wine they’ve worked their way through. I’ve had two small glasses and been nursing a third for the last hour, which no one has noticed. I’m not feeling the vibe to get shit faced. Being the only sober one has its pitfalls.
It has been fun, can’t lie. It’s taken my mind off the hell of knowing I have to work with Vance Roderick.
“Have you seen me trying to run on a treadmill,” Nessa sighs. “Sometimes I think I’m going to end up with two black eyes.”
“They’re too squishy to give you a black eye,” Waverley laughs.
I arch a brow at her, and she shrugs a shoulder in response, still grinning. Waverley has been through a lot. It says something about her strength and character that she allows herself to be so happy. I’d still be fighting it inher shoes.
“Do you want to feel?” Nessa asks me, with a very serious look on her face.
“Don’t use me to get you off.” I give her a dirty look.
“It’s scientific,” she squawks.
“Not my kind of science experiment. But thank you for the opportunity.”
