“You don’t get to call dibs. I saw him first.” My head snaps to her. To my dismay, I realize she’s smiling. Oh, crap. Who says things like that? We’re not sixteen anymore. I’ve just managed to sound completely ridiculous.
I begin to dab at my hair with the towel, as I consider how to rectify my words. “What I was trying to say is that he isn’t even your type,” I add quickly, but it’s too late.
She eyes me, amused. I can see her brain cells working. “You like him,” she states, smiling like she knows something that I don’t.
“No, I don’t like him.” I force myself to stare her down, even though my skin’s getting hotter by the second. “Trust me, no woman in her right mind could possibly like him. I don’t even know him but from what I’ve seen he’s insufferable. Excruciatingly unbearable. Plain obnoxious.”
“And so your type.” She winks.
“Obnoxious is most certainly not my type,” I protest. “In fact, you can have him. He’s more your type anyway. He’s arrogant, vain, and…and…” My mind struggles to come up with more adjectives to describe him. But he’s in too close proximity, and faced with just how hot the guy is, words elude me.
He’d be perfect—if it weren’t for his shitty character.
“I don’t believe you,” Mandy says.
“You should. I really don’t like him. In fact, I can’t stand him,” I say. “And now drop it. Talking about a guy is getting boring.”
Mandy keeps regarding me with a mixture of puzzlement and amusement. “You can’t judge a book by its cover.”
“You should have heard him when I arrived,” I utter too low for her to understand.
“What?”
“If you think he’s so great, you should date him,” I say instead.
“So you wouldn’t mind if I flirted with him?” she asks, cocking her head to the side.
I force a careful shrug. “Why would I?”
“Interesting. In that case, maybe I will,” she whispers back and inches away from me, crossing her long legs in the process.
I shake my head and let out an annoyed sigh.
We barely arrived a minute ago, and she’s already on the prowl, ready to conquer the next male specimen we’ve come across. Maybe she’ll flirt with him to get me to ask him out on a date. Or maybe she’ll do it because she thinks I’m not interested in him. With Mandy, you never know. Unless you specify loud and clear that the guy is yours, everything is a game to her.
It sure helps that he’s handsome and not exactly the epitome of hospitality because she likes a challenge.
He probably won’t be much of a challenge for her.
And then my gaze settles on the only picture frame in the room.
It sits on top of the fireplace, mirroring the slow dance of the flames.
I can’t help that I’m drawn to it like a magnet. With a peek behind me to make sure he’s not watching us from the doorway, I head over and lift it up.
My body freezes and my eyes narrow.
Seriously, what did I expect?
CHAPTER FOUR
I inspect the radiant smiles of a loved-up couple: he’s all dark hair and brooding eyes, arms wrapped around a blonde with sun-kissed skin and blue eyes that seem to come alive through the picture.
I don’t know why, but disappointment courses through me. Jealousy rears its ugly head. The blonde is without a doubt beautiful. Her skin is glowing, her eyes shimmering. She looks young, carefree, happy. They both do.
I turn around to Mandy and hold up the frame, trying to keep my voice steady. “He’s off-limits,” I say. “He has a girlfriend. Maybe even a fiancée or a wife.”
“So what?” Mandy retorts. “You don’t know everything about men and relationships, Ava. Nothing’s ever off-limits. Besides, we’re not planning on marrying him, right? And last I checked, I saw no ring on his finger,” she whispers and turns around, signaling that the conversation’s over.
I shake my head. I know exactly what she’s planning on doing: adding another notch to her bedpost or forcing me to add one to mine. She’s had so many, it’s both impressive and time-consuming. Or tiresome. Whichever way one might want to see it. I’m not a wallflower either, but my conquests pale in comparison to hers.
“See, cheating’s where I draw the line.”
“What?” Mandy says again after catching my glare. “You can’t change a cheater, just like a leopard can’t change its spots. That’s nature.” Her tone sounds resolute, as if she’s made up her mind already.
For some reason, I’m not comfortable with Mandy chasing him, but I keep my reservations to myself. That’s another beauty of our friendship: we allow the other to make mistakes, which we call life lessons.
It’s all pretty deep and spiritual.
It’s a thing between us no one else understands.
But the more I think about her kissing him, or anyone’s lips on him for that matter, the more the thought makes me sick. Why’s that? I don’t own him. And I sure as hell shouldn’t feel disappointment at the prospect that he might be seeing someone.
But I do.