“Go on now and get laid.” Caila sweeps her fingers my way in an effort to shuffle me off toward the bar, as if all I had to do was pluck some poor boy off a stool and jump up on his lap. “Go get yours! Believe you me, one good—”
I hold a hand up at this mirror image version—correction, almost mirror version—in front of me. “Go get mine? Now why didn’t I think of that? Because every girl knows that inserting a penis into your body just solves everything!” A part of me wants to retch at the idea. “Penises for the taking and orgasms for the faking!” I shout a little louder than necessary at a group of girls strutting by.
“All right, I get it.” Caila gives a hard knock over the table until my eyes steady back on hers. “You’re a smart ass, but that’s why I like you.” She rises just as our good friend, Scarlett, jumps her from behind with a tackle hug. We’ve known Scarlett for ages. The three of us were best friends until she moved away in eighth grade—so the fact we’ve reunited right here at Whitney Briggs makes this scholastic adventure that much more special.
“You’re not leaving already, are you?” Scarlett tries her best to pull Caila back to the table.
“I’ve gotta run. But before I forget—” She reaches into her oversized Louis Vuitton handbag and flings a curved pieced of bright blue rubber at me the length of a remote control. It’s in the shape of a thick spoon with rose gold metallic accents curling around the tip of it.
“What the hell is this? And should I be holding it or dropping it and trying to kill it with my heel?”
“Try killing it with fire,” Scarlett quips and swiftly jumps back as I try to spear her with it like a sword.
“Considering it’s your new boyfriend, I’d suggest cuddling.” That self-satisfied grin takes over my sister’s glossy pink lips. “And don’t kill him just yet. Let him kill you, softly in all the right places, if you know what I mean.” She blows a kiss from over her shoulder as she jets for the exit.
“Wow,” Scarlett muses while inspecting my new little blue man in copious detail. “That’s some high-tech dildo. If I were you, I’d strap myself down before using it just to be safe.”
“Very funny.” I drop it to the table, and it gives a threatening leap back in my direction. “On second thought. The sooner my little blue Valentine meets with an open flame the better.”
The music amps up, and my gaze drifts for a moment, snagging on a dark-haired boy staring at me from over his beer. Familiar scene. Only this one darts his gaze away as if caught with his hand in the proverbial “nookie” jar. What’s this? No nerve? I bet once he gets to the bottom of that liquid courage he’s sucking face with, he’ll be back for seconds. I go to look away myself, and my eyes catch over his all-too-familiar features.
A slap of heat takes over my body, and my heart tries to rocket out of my throat. Something about him looks eerily familiar, and I can’t for the life of me pinpoint why. His gaze steers back in my direction, and now I’m the one quick to look away. But instead of implementing my go-to maneuver—turning my head to the right, thus exposing him to what could have been the end of our funfest—I simply jump my seat closer to my pretty redheaded bestie.
“Too bad she had to leave. I miss me some Caila.” Scarlett picks up the dick-on-a-stick and makes it dance a little jig for us. “I was hoping she’d finally get to meet Piper and Daisy.”
“Oh no—not like this. They’re not getting off that easy. I’m having a little fun with those girls first.” No thanks to the fact destiny introduced my face to a pack of ravenous mutts, Caila and I have missed out on a lifetime of messing with the general population at large. Since that fateful day, I’ve itemized the things we could have done, switching places in class, the tricks we could have played on our friends and family—heck, Caila could have aced both of our driver’s tests. I had to take mine twice. And the fun with boys we could have had! Caila would have dumped my exes in far more dramatic style than I could have ever dreamed of. She’s just a whole lot better at doing me than I’ll ever be.
“So, what are you thinking?” Scarlett bounces that long dark-red hair of hers over her shoulder as if it were a cat. “Girls night at the club? I’ll tell them you’re working a shift?”
“Exactly that.” I bite down on a mischievous smile. I can just see Piper’s and Daisy’s sure-as-heck shocked faces once I—Caila Jace—strip down to tits and tails. “I’ll simply tell them I’m headed for the restroom and watch from a distance as they lose their collective minds.”
“And the big reveal?” Her brows rise up over her field green eyes. St. Patrick himself couldn’t be prouder of that sacred color. There’s no denying the fact Scarlett is an Irish stunner.
I glance back up at my new quasi-stalker at the bar to see if he’s shifted his attention to the iconic beauty in front of me, but his eyes meet up with my mine, and, as if on cue, my stomach explodes in a fireball.