“Come on.” She laughs. “He wasn’t stalking you and besides, even if he was, that’d be the most committed a man has ever been to you.”
I reach over the center console to smack her arm.
“Hey!” She swats my hand away, smiling. “Both hands on the wheel.”
I don’t listen and resume my one-handed smacking, taking it even further and pinch her skin. The car behind us honks. I giveAmiyah’s thigh one more smack before I roll down my window, flip the bird, and pull forward.
Amiyah continues. “I’m just saying that it wouldn’t hurt to give him a chance.”
I pretend to gag, not wanting to entertain the idea no matter how much my mind has been wondering as of late.
I hold my hand out toward Amiyah, who slips gum out of her purse.
“Is this about Dad’s hands-off rule?” She unwraps the stick of gum and slaps it into my palm.
I scoff. “When have I ever not done something someone told me not to?”
“So why not give him a chance? He seems nice enough. He’s hot, and I mean come on DD, have you seen the man play hockey? I’m getting hot just thinking about it.”
You and me both.
“In that case, why don’t you shoot your shot?”
Just saying those words causes a weird twisting sensation to form in my chest. The gum doesn’t stop the words from tasting like acid coming out.
If Amiyah did give Lucas a chance, I’d just have to see him around more often. Obviously.
“Nope, he’s not my type.” She shrugs her shoulders and that eases some of the unwanted tension in my own.
No idea why but I don’t care enough to mentally unpack that.
“How is everything you just said not your type?”
“I mean, I’m not opposed to being with a switch. I’ve just never been with one before.”
My head whips in her direction. The motion has me accidentally swerving into the lane next to us. The car I almost collide with honks and I jerk the steering wheel, straightening out the wheels. Amiyah doubles over with laughter, the sound louder than the racing of my own heart.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I rest my free hand over my heart, trying to catch my breath but I still narrow my eyes in Amiyah’s direction.
She wipes tears from her eyes, now red in the face.
“I think—” She tries to catch her breath and I fight the urge to unbuckle her seatbelt and push her out of the moving car into oncoming traffic. “I think that’s maybe why you guys seem so drawn to each other.” Another gasp of air. “You’re bossy—but I also know you like it when a man takes charge every once in a while.”
I’mnotdrawn to Lucas. That idea is so ridiculous that I don’t even bother to entertain it but trying not to imagine it is even harder.
Amiyah leans back in her seat, now calm enough to not be wheezing every other word. “Now that I think about it, that sounds like the best of both worlds.”
I really should tell her not to go anywhere near Lucas Callahan but only because I’m trying to shield her heart.
It has nothing to do with protecting myself.
Six
Denise
The Clone House is called that because there seems to be this unspoken rule within the frat that all the guys have to have the same haircut. A quiff with tapered sides. But the similarities don’t stop at the haircuts. All the guys have hair in some shade of blond, blue eyes, and are on the football team.
You have a few oddballs and by that, I mean guys who are on a different sports team, but they don’t stray far from this look they’ve got going on.
