“THEN DON’T TENSE UP!”
“ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?” Damn it, she was beautiful when she was angry, chest heaving, lips pressed together like she was building up enough energy to use that dirty mouth to yell at me.
“No?” I scooted away from her. “Just, I don’t know, do a yoga breathing exercise thing.” I waved her off and reached into my pocket for my phone. I needed a distraction before my mouth accidentally hit hers in a vain attempt to repeat the kiss that shouldn’t have even happened.
“I SHOULDN’T HAVE TO!”
“Stop yelling. You’re completely overreacting.”
Avery’s response was to smack me with her purse again, this time in the chest. “Your mom said ‘penis’ at least ten times tonight. She encouraged me to lie in your bed with my legs in the air while your lazy-ass sperm swim upstream!”
“Lazy?” I shoved the phone in my pocket. “My sperm are ANYTHING but lazy, alright? Hell, you’d be LUCKY to have them floating down your river!”
“See!” She threw her hands in the air. “Floating! What? They don’t even know how to swim? Hmm, reminds me of someone else. Tell me, how were those swimming lessons with the five-year-old class? How old were you, twelve?”
“Go to hell,” I muttered. “And you’re getting off point. Many a woman is thankful for my . . . juices.”
Avery burst out laughing. “Your juices? Your perfectly golden and lazy-ass Lucas Thorn juices? Do you hear yourself?”
“Yeah”—I rolled my eyes—“and it’s like I’m losing IQ points the longer I discuss this with you. Just plan to go to the appointment. I’ll drop you guys off, you can spread for the dude, get your results. We’ll all do lunch, and I’ll make up a fake meeting we have to get back for—then in a few weeks, we’ll convince my mom that we decided to break things off.”
Avery tapped her fingernails against her luscious thigh. What I wouldn’t do for one night, just one night, when I could run my tongue up and down that smooth piece of skin.
“I hate going to the doctor. Ugh. When she mentioned making the appointment, I didn’t think I’d have to spread my legs for a total stranger.” Avery exhaled roughly. “A few weeks is nothing. Besides, it’s not like they live close to us. And we’re adults, responsible adults.”
“Who made out in the wine cellar,” I just had to add.
“Sexual tension is just that, sexual tension. Besides, don’t you have a few more girls to please this week?”
“Yeah.” Guilt stabbed me in the chest because suddenly the only lips I wanted to kiss were hers. What the hell was wrong with me? “I do. At least they don’t push me away.”
She glanced down at her hands, then looked out the window and whispered, “Yeah, well, some girls aren’t okay with sharing. Besides, you know that when I was little I stuffed animal crackers in my pockets during snack time, only to have them end up in the washer later. I didn’t do it because I was hungry—I just didn’t want other people to have what I had.”
“Still possessive, hey, Avery Bug?”
She glanced back at me. “In every way that matters, yes. When a man loves me, he’s going to get all of me, not twenty-four hours.”
Lucky bastard.
Lucky freaking bastard.
I wanted to say something else.
I wanted so many things.
My heart twisted and slammed against my rib cage in defiance of the words I knew I needed to utter.
It begged me to think before speaking.
But I’d stopped listening to my heart a long time ago.
Back when it told me to pick Avery.
And dump the only girl I’d ever been with—her sister.
“Yeah, well, don’t knock it until you try it.” I smirked.
Avery stiffened. I pulled the car up to the curb of her building. “See you tomorrow, Thorn.”
The car door slammed.
Blanketing me in darkness.
Leaving me to wonder if I was making another epic mistake with the one Black girl I swore I’d never hurt.
Chapter Twenty
AVERY
I dreamed of strangling Lucas Thorn with my bare hands and woke up smiling, only to stop the minute I realized that he wasn’t in fact dead—thanks to the text waiting for me on my cell:
Be ready in 40.
Why? I asked the universe that question over and over. First when I took a shower, again when I quickly got dressed and applied my makeup, and then when my unruly hair refused to do anything except shoot out in every direction, giving me a very hot Medusa look that I’m sure Lucas would comment on.
When I was finally dressed and ready to go, I had three minutes of freedom left.
Minutes before I was going to have to go to the gyno because of a stupid fake engagement I didn’t even want in the first place. But his face at dinner. I knew that look. He had taken a huge deep breath and lowered his head like he was about ready to tell the truth and, in the process, disappoint his parents. And for some reason I decided to fall on my own sword, and jump into the depths of hell with him.
I stared at the door, willing time to stop so that the knock wouldn’t happen. Hey, maybe I was in one of those alternate-universe movies, meaning the main character THINKS that everything is real but is actually hooked up to a giant human-hating computer.
I squeezed my eyes shut and mumbled, “I’m Neo, I’m Neo, I’m Neo.”
A knock sounded at my door.
“Why can’t I live in the damn Matrix?” I muttered, slumping all the way to the door and jerking it open.
“Did you say something?” Lucas asked, looking sexier than what should be allowed for the devil. His white shirt was crisp, ironed, and tucked into perfect-fitting pin-striped trousers that screamed class, money, man.
NO!
I shook my head. “I was just wishing on a falling star, asking it to fall right on your head.” I grabbed the coffee from his hand and peeked behind his back. “Where’s my pastry?”
He rolled his eyes. “It’s in the car.”
I scrunched my nose up and took a sip of coffee as I stepped out of the apartment. “Last night I killed you.” I smiled triumphantly.
Lucas exhaled and shut the door behind me, placing his hand on my back as we walked down the dimly lit hall. “Wow, tell me more, please. I’m dying to know. Was it a gunshot wound to the head or something more graphic, like a machete to the balls?”
“HAH, don’t give me ideas, Thorn.” I chugged more coffee, allowing the heat of the bitter liquid to soothe my nerves.
The last time I’d been to the gyno was right in the middle of college. Not only was the checkup expensive, but it was also after I’d stupidly had sex with a relative stranger just to get the whole thing over with.
I was the only virgin left in my group of friends, and for some reason I thought that part of growing up was giving my virginity up in the most awkward experience possible.
Not only was it the most unromantic experience of my life.
But I later found out the guy had given another girl an STD. I swore I’d never have random sex again and went to get tested.