“I understand.” He smirks. “Not many guys like big girls, but I….”
I refuse to listen to the rest of that sentence. I’ve heard enough—for a lifetime. Attempting to yank my hand out from beneath his once again, I’m about to ask him to let me out of the booth when we’re interrupted by someone other than Deena sliding into the seat across from us.
Of course it is. It’s Lucky Ganetti.
“Hey.” He grunts the single-syllable word and gives Chasen a chin lift. Then he looks at me. “How are you?”
“I’m—”
I don’t get a chance to finish, because the one and only Tiff appears. “Where’d you go, Lucky?” Her eyes move around the booth. The second she spots me, she frowns. Then her eyes move to Chasen. “Chasen. What on earth are you doing?”
“I’m talking to my new friend, Becky.”
“Becklyn,” Lucky and I say at the exact same time.
Chasen shrugs.
“Why?” Tiffany looks quite confused. Her extra, extra-long fake eyelashes are fluttering so fast, I swear I can feel the breeze she’s generating.
“Why am I talking to Becky, here?”
“Becklyn.” It’s just me this time.
Tiffany’s expression is confused but also something more sinister. Crossing her arms over her chest, I can’t help noticing how much her boobs move up. They’re practically popping out of her low-cut top. “Is this one of your stupid bets?”
A bet?
Looking back at me, she explains, “They do itallthe time.” She rolls her eyes. “They pick the ugl—” She covers her mouth. “I mean… they choose a girl who’s not…” She pauses again and points at me. “Girls like you.” She smiles because she probably thinks she’s found the best way to insult me.
She did.
“Anyhoo, they bet to see how long it takes them to talk her into doing them in the back room.”
I hear a growl coming from the other side of the table, but I can’t think about Lucky right now. All I can think about is this predicament I’m in.
This is a humiliating, embarrassing, and anger-inducing predicament.
The last thing I wanted was for Lucky to hear any of that. For him to hear what guys really think of me.
Tiffany’s still yapping. She’s now talking to Chasen. “I’m right, aren’t I? It’s a bet.” She looks over her shoulder at the table where Deena is sitting with three other guys. “You have to stop doing that. It’ssorude.” She looks at me, and all I see is pity on her face. Her brows have been pushed together, and she’s got puckered lips.
Oh, I’m not going to like this. Not one bit.
She bends forward a little. “Honey,” she says so sugar-sweetly but also condescendingly. “You can’t really think that a guy like Chasen would be interested inyou, do you?”
“I—” Truthfully, I don’t care. I don’t want him to be interested in me. The guy’s a jerk.
“He’s the president of the Teke fraternity. He’dneverdate someone like you.”
In times like these, the threat of tears is usually imminent. But do you want to know something? I’m not going to cry this time, because I’m not sad. I’m pissed. Who do these people think they are? I look over at Lucky, and I can’t decide if I should be happy or mad. He looks like he wants to kill Chasen. He’s glaring at the guy with his hands in fists on top of the table. If you ask me, he should be glaring at her. Tiffany. She’s the one saying all the mean stuff. Who cares about the jerk golfer guy? Not me.
Turning my head, I say to Chasen, the dick, “Please move.”
“Huh?” He’s finally noticed me.
His complete attention has been on Tiffany, but he’s looking at me now. “Let. Me. Out.”
“Oh. Right.” He slides out of the booth. Once I’m out, he slides back in, and Tiff moves in next to Lucky.
