“You’re a real asshole, you know that?” I say. I’m only mildly surprised by his comment, but it still bothers me. I don’t know exactly where Jim and Ryan’s stepmother, Ruby, went wrong with him. Back when he was in school, she would always show up to his shit. It didn’t matter how little he cared about the project or how poor his grades were. She always showed up for his and Ian’s events. I have half a mind to slap the idiot right out of him, but I’m not stupid enough to think whatever history we have would save me from the repercussions of such an act.
“I know,” he says without an ounce of sorrow in his voice. His arrogance knows no bounds. “Walk with me, Nic. Let’s go find Duke,” he says and leads me through the crowd of strewn about tables and chairs and the occasional sofa. I’d rather not be tucked into Ryan’s side, but it’s not worth the argument, so I go anyway. We pass the main hallway that leads down to the chapel, the palace, and the bedrooms. In the back of the clubhouse is the game room. In the center is a pool table with dark red velvet lining and an overhead light that’s styled in a Nordic head-piece fashion. There’s an AC/DC pinball machine in one corner and a Pac-Man machine in another. Ryan removes his arm from over my shoulders and moves to stand in front of me.
“Hey Brother, you wanna share?” Ryan asks. My entire body tenses up at the question. The word no flies through my brain repeatedly and at rapid speed. No, no, no, no. He’s a jackass, but is he really this much of a jackass? A rough, masculine voice laughs and instinctively, my head flops forward between the shoulder blades of Ryan’s back. It’s Duke. Just like I knew it would be, but knowing something and finding something out are two totally different things.
“Fuck you,” Duke says. He sounds occupied. “Get your own pussy.”
Ryan’s shoulders shake with laughter. My cheeks heat with embarrassment. I’m a Lost Girl, not his Old Lady. I know better than to assume anything with these guys. It doesn’t matter how much I know better than to have come here and asking for Duke, it doesn’t make the humiliation and frustration any easier to deal with. I left Darren and the bar so I could be here and feel better. I figured maybe Duke and I could hook up again and for a little while I could make like he means the words he says, and I could feel like I belong. I didn’t always want to—belong that is—but once I started babysitting Chel’s kid and we got closer, I I ended up spending more time here. It was so natural that I nearly didn’t even realize what I was becoming until I’d already become it. And now I’m here, feeling like the biggest fool on earth for thinking I fit in well enough to handle this shit with Duke without getting hurt. I am an idiot.
A few very long, very brutal moments pass before Ryan steps forward, giving me the worst fucking view imaginable. Duke’s back is propped up against the arm of the sofa, facing the other direction, and I let out a silent sigh of relief. He can’t see me here—not when I feel like this. His short blond hair is slicked back tonight. It’s barely a few inches long, but it’s in that awkward place where it falls in his eyes, but isn’t quite long enough to tuck behind his ears. Above him on the sofa, straddling his legs, is Dawn. She’s a Lost Girl, too. But she takes it to a whole other level. I don’t think I can name a single club member she hasn’t slept with. Even Jim had a go at her during one of his and Ruby’s fights a few years back. It wasn’t pretty, but now Ruby avoids the clubhouse even when Jim invites her to come to a party, and Dawn knows better than to say a word to her.
Dawn’s naked form moves up and down as slowly as she can. Her arms are stretched out before her, resting atop Duke’s chest. Her eyes are focused on him, making my voyeurism all that much more invasive. Ryan waits another beat and then leans down and whispers in my ear, “Enjoy the show, bitch.”
Then he quietly walks away, giving me a pat on my boob as he goes. The farther away he gets, the more I want to stay here and cement this moment in my mind.