“Nope.”
“Ah. They didn’t select you, huh?”
Even drunk, and even talking to Zach, I know I need to watch my words so I settle on a truth: “I’m too fat for their Greek selves.”
There.
They told me that last year.
“You’re not too fat,” he snaps, his defense immediate.
I blink at the Coors sign that’s glowing above my head then grab a couple whole lemons from the chopping board behind the bar and start to juggle them. “You really mean that, huh?”
“You’re not too fat. You’re the perfect amount of curvy.”
“You sound like my marketing professor. Enhance the negatives?—”
“The only negative thing about you, Denver, is that you’re hellaloud when you’re smashed.”
“Dad wouldn’t agree. I just know he’ll talk to Mom and they’ll encourage me to go on a soup diet until I can fit into Addison’s…” I hiccup. “…dress. I can’t believe you fucked her. You have terrible taste.”
“A soup diet?”
“Yeah. You eat soup and celery for ten days. She’s sworn by it in the past, after she had Logan and Paul.”
He heaves a sigh. “Why do you listen to that bullshit?”
“Why do you fuck horrible people?”
“I don’t care enough about them to know they’re horrible,” he jokes.
My nose scrunches. “Ho.”
“You know it. If your mom tells you to diet, I’ll talk to her.”
“I don’t need you to. She’ll forget alllll about me soon. She’s zeroed in on husband no. 2, and that means she’s more worried about her figure than mine. Logan says he’s slimy.” I frown. “I think she wanted to marry an athlete.”
“Any sport?”
“Yup!”
“What makes you say that?”
“Because her first husband is a sports agent and Logan says this one is a contract negotiator specializing in sports.”
Zach chuckles. “You might be right. Those who can’t play become attorneys?”
“You’re smart. You’ll do both. I’ll make you. You can’t play hockey forever.”
“I know, I know. Why do you think I came to Oakwood?”
“Because you listen to Aunt Denny.”
“That I do. Hey, you’re not dieting right now, are you?”
“Nah.”
“Good.”
