She slips into the bathroom, and just before the door shuts behind her, she sticks her head through the crack and flashes me a grin.
“There’s no lock on this door, by the way. Hope you don’t need to pee, or anything.”
I swear there’s a glint in her eye as she says it, and for just a second, my breath catches in my throat.
The door swings shut behind her, and I’m alone in the room. The bed, the sound of running water… Memories of our night at the motel come flooding back, including the part where her ass filled my hands.Don’t go there, dude!
I haven’t slept with anyone since then, and that’s a problem. It means my freshest sex memory is Amy—the exact girl I need to forget, unless I want Don on my case.I knew I should’ve chosen a guy to mentor. I fucking knew it!This would never have happened with Amir, obviously—too bad my plan B is playing dead.
Instead of perching on the stool by the wall, I wander across the room and stand with my back to the bathroom door. It’s ajar, I realize, and I want so badly to just push it open and head on in there, but I hold back.
“So, you left before midnight…”
The sound of the shower curtain being whipped back.
I’m guessing she’s double-checking I’m not standing there waiting for her like a pervert.
“What’s up with that, Cinderella?” I continue.
Now that I think about it, it’s insane—she left with twenty minutes to go until the countdown. I ducked out of the living room for no more than five minutes… and she slipped away unseen. The only person she told was Malcolm.
I listen as she squirts something into her hands.
“I feel like I did a good job with your friends, but doing the whole ‘Happy New Year!’ thing was a step too far. You never know how things might spiral out of control.”
The worst part is she’s not even joking. She really is that unhinged.
A handful of seconds drift by in silence, and I spend them picturing her lathering up, the urge to dive in there and join her floating to the surface of my mind.
“We had a deal, and I stuck to it,” she says. “I showed you I have great people skills. Right?”
You? People skills?
“Oh, sure,” I agree. “Except for the whole baseball situation.”
“Hey, she deserved that! You’re just mad I cockblocked you.”
“You did more than cockblock me, Amy. I literally heard that ball crack against her skull.”
“For real?” She laughs. “Damn. I should’ve stepped back a little more. Nowthatwould’ve done some damage.”
She’s not even kidding. The worst part is that this is making me smile—and worse still, I’m as stiff as a board. While Firebird clambers out of the shower, I try to talk myself down, and when she slips back into the bedroom, I straighten and turn to find her standing there in a Washington State tee and blue yoga pants.
We stare at each other for a beat too long.
“Okay,” she sighs. “Just say it.”
“Say what?”
“Upholding standards… Reputation… Yada yada yada.”
She makes circles in the air, and I hate how she’s insinuating I’m some kind of square.
“Let’s eat,” I say, and I can tell she’s taken aback.
She nods slowly, before climbing onto the bed and patting the space beside her.
As we chow down on the takeout, I look around her room. I hadn’t spotted this when I arrived, but now that I’ve got my bearings, I can’t believe I didn’t notice the furniture the moment I stepped through the door.
