“You were in New York?”
“Just some business.” He shrugs, averting his eyes. “You should call him.”
“I’ll call him when you find a girl to settle down with.” Clay has never had a serious relationship, and I’d love for him to meet someone nice.
He finishes his beer, putting the empty bottle down on the table. “Nah.” He toys with his nose ring. “Couldn’t tie myself to one pussy. Variety is the spice of life.”
I swat him with a cushion. “You’re a walking STD. I should make you wear a hazmat suit before letting you sit on my couch.”
Throwing back his head, he laughs. “Tales of my conquests are vastly exaggerated.”
“Uh-huh.” I take another sip of my beer. “I work in a bar. I hear things.” Clay doesn’t hang around Ramshackle much these days, but word travels fast in this neighborhood.
“I always wrap it before I tap it.”
I swat him with the cushion again. “I don’t need deets, thank you very much. Not unless you want me to reciprocate.” I smile sweetly at him, and he gags.
“Hard pass.” He stands, stretching his arms up over his head, stifling a yawn.
“You look tired. I can make up the couch for you.”
Leaning down, he kisses the top of my head. “Got someplace to be. Maybe next time.”
I walk him to the door. “Thanks for walking me home.”
“Anything for my fave li’l heartbreaker.” He rests his forehead against mine. “You know you mean the world to me, Pres. Right?”
“I know, Clay. You’re that person for me too.”
“It’s you and me against the world,” we whisper at the same time, sporting matching smiles when we break apart.
“I might be gone for a while,” he adds. “Call me if you need anything, and I’ll send someone around.”
“Gone where?” Concern bubbles to the surface again.
“Just some business. Nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about.”
Like that isn’t condescending as hell, but I let it go as it’s late and we’ve already shared heated words tonight.
He opens the door. “I’ll call you when I’m back. We can grab dinner at The Pit Stop.”
“Sounds good. Be safe.”
“Always.” He flashes me a devilish smile I know all too well.
“And cut your hair,” I call out after him. “You look like a hobo.”
His booming laughter follows me back into my apartment, and I’m still smiling as I turn off the lights and head to bed.
CHAPTER FIVE
Kent
“Dude, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Mitch stares at me like I’ve had a brain transplant as Casey and Savannah walk away from us in a huff. He’s obviously not happy I instantly declined their foursome proposal.
“Trust me, I did us both a favor. They’re bitches.” I still remember the nasty things Casey said to my sister-in-law Selena, and that was the last time my dick went anywhere near her pussy. I intend to keep it that way.
Swiping my beer from the floor, I lean back in the couch, spreading my thighs wider as I survey the room with a new set of eyes. Music pings off the walls as an energetic crowd dances in the large living room. Every chair and available surface in the space is occupied with couples making out or fucking. A few guys are snorting lines of coke off the coffee table, and a cluster of girls is popping pills in the corner. Empty red cups litter the floor, and the myriad of booze on the table is in short supply. Mike and Paul’s college parties are legendary, and I’ve had plenty of good times here, but for some reason, I’m not feeling it tonight.
