My eyes immediately dropped back to the blonde. Really? “I did?” I asked out loud. I glanced back up at Andi. “Did she tell you that?”
She fidgeted uncomfortably. “No, I wasn’t worthy of Amanda White’s time. She never spoke to me.” I guess Andi saw the question in my eyes. “Two nights before that photo was taken, I needed an escape from Bradley’s family; they were pretty intense sometimes, and I needed a timeout. I went for a walk, alone, down the beach.” I nodded as she stalled, encouraging her to continue. “Remember the pier, about a hundred yards down the beach from the apartment?” Like a slow moving torrent, the memory began to return to me. “I was sitting on top of it, you were underneath, and you weren’t alone. Not wanting to sit and listen to Amanda moan about how awesome you were, I tried to sneak away and I fell off the edge of the pier. Amanda was making so much noise you didn’t hear me, but I got an eyeful of you humping Amanda like the horny teenager you were. I found my feet and got the hell out of there.”
I remembered every detail of that night. Amanda wasn’t my first, not by a long shot, but she had been a firecracker. She was the first girl I ever did doggy style! I had no idea Andi had witnessed that night.
“Wow,” I said with a nervous chuckle. “I guess I should apologize or something.”
Andi snorted and grabbed a tray of mini quiches from the kitchen counter. “Don’t be ridiculous. I should have known better. I’d seen you drag Sarah under that pier two nights earlier. I called it the P.O.P. for short, the pier of penetration. I should have stayed clear of P.O.P., gosh only knows what sordid diseases I could have caught just walking past it.”
Andi stood at the doorway looking like a picture of female perfection. I suddenly found myself wishing Andi hadn’t seen me with Amanda or Sarah. If she sat herself down at a computer and typed Decker Steele into the search engine, she would be bombarded with a hell of a lot more visuals than my scrawny bare teenage ass hammering Amanda White. For the first time in my life, I felt something akin to shame.
“Come on, Decker, get your mind out of the teenage gutter and let’s go rock that party like it’s 1999!”
Closing the photo album, shutting down those memories and thoughts, I followed Andi out of the shop.
Chapter 6
ANDI
Still feeling disturbingly rattled by my memory of Decker screwing Amanda, I grabbed a glass of champagne off the table. The party had been organized on the roof of Lionel and Casey’s place. Like my studio apartment, they had the space above their dog grooming business decked out in living quarters. Unlike mine, theirs was luxuriously modern. While it was worthy of a jaw-drop and the occasional gasp, I still preferred my older style décor. Lionel and Casey had the roof decked out with outdoor furniture and a small glasshouse full of plants, or as Casey referred to them, Lionel’s replace-a-babies. I glanced across to my own rooftop and wondered what I could do to create my own outdoor oasis. Some furniture, a few potted plants, maybe a veggie garden. Laughter drew my attention back to the party before me. It was packed, and I knew most of the guests did not live or work on the street.
Lionel and Casey had Decker sequestered at the appetizer table, no doubt grilling him for his dark and mysterious background that had them completely intrigued. He hadn’t been willing to tell them what he did for a living either. Belle Ferrara, the owner of the exquisite evening wear store directly across from my book store, was a curvaceous woman with a booming laugh and an equally large personality. Just a glance in her direction made me smile. Her husband, Rod, was a tall, lanky man with an untroubled smile and kind eyes. Belle was quite obviously the social one in the relationship, while Rod seemed comfortable simply standing submissively at her side. Imogen and Vanessa were joint owners of the hairdressing salon. They had both cooed and awed over my hair the moment I stepped over the threshold, onto the roof. Imogen was the more subdued of the two, and Vanessa—the undresser as Casey had whispered in my ear—was clearly the life of the party. She was from England and liked to say bloody and shite a lot. Bruce was the owner of the convenience store at the end of the street. His name caught me by surprise, considering he was Asian and his English was limited.