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“You are a rug.”
“Stop calling me a rug.”
“Stop fucking being one.”
We have ourselves a stare-off, our hands wrestling the whole time.
“I’m not a rug. It’s just…” She sighs. “It’s complicated.”
“It seems pretty fucking simple to me. He’s a pussy. And a cheater.”
Kota rolls her eyes at me. I don’t need hard evidence. The way Guy was up on Lisann? That’s a fucking cheat to me.
“And a liar.” I stand by that. I will ask everyone at this party what a two-man means just to prove it. “You dumped him. End of story.”
“We have history.”
“So do we.”
“We…” After a humorless laugh, she tries to push me away but I don’t budge. I still have her hand, too. I’m not sure I’ll ever be giving that back. It feels too good in mine. “We do not have history. We have animosity.”
“We have chemistry,” I argue.
Kota doesn’t deny it.
“Did you get back with him?” I press.
She eyes me for another—long—moment before saying, “Kind of.”
“What the hell is ‘kind of’?”
“We’re not together-together but we’re working on things.”
“Working on what? How to clean his dirty dick before he comes anywhere near you with it?”
“You know, you seem very interested in what Guy does with his dick. You want me to go get him, so you can ask him about it yourself?”
“You sounded pretty concerned with Tina’s whereabouts. Should I call her over here, too? Have ourselves a real double date?”
Kota rips her hand from mine, making me run my tongue along my bottom teeth.
“I’m glad you and Tina are a thing but—”
“We’re not a thing. We’re nothing.” We’re friends but one word from Kota and I’d end that friendship in a heartbeat.
“That’s not what it looked like when you were caressing her.”
Caressing her. God, she’s so jealous. I love it.
“She had a bug in her hair,” I lie, because there’s no fucking way I’m fessing up to why I really touched—not caressed—Tina’s hair.
“That’s…” She shakes her head. “Whatever. I don’t care either way.”
“Seems like you do.”
“I don’t. And I didn’t get back with Guy either. Not completely.”
“He thinks you’re back with him.”
