"I don't care what you guys have to do," she says, "but you end this damn thing or I swear I'll kick you both out on the street. You hear me?"
Giles lets out a small laugh, obviously not taking Ava seriously. She snatches a kitchen towel, balls it up, and flings it at Giles. It lands just at his feet, where he looks at it then back at her.
"Relax, little one," he says, smoothly. "It'll be over really soon."
My stomach clenches at the way his lips curl up in a playful smile. He looks my way and winks. I'm not sure I'm ready for whatever he has coming my way.
Chapter Seventeen
Giles
I'M NOT THE TYPE TO shy away from a challenge, but trying to think of how to get Julia back for her sacrilegious abuse of donuts has left me drawing a blank.
The upside to that has been the amusement of watching her over the past few days. Julia's been on edge, every day more apprehensive about what I have in store for her. I'm sure she wonders if I'm biding my time or if I've just given up on the whole thing. As fun as it's been to watch her squirm, I can't let this drag on for another week. Ava's got a point, the pranking really is growing out of control. Julia and I are both overly paranoid about everything we use or touch, and yet still fall victim to pranks every so often because the house is practically booby-trapped.
Even though it's technically my turn, I can't assume that there isn't a prank lingering around somewhere. Might be too late of a realization, but I shouldn't have started messing with her belongings. It only served as an invitation for her to mess with mine. And now she's progressed to tampering with food? The woman has to be stopped.
It's time I change the narrative of this little war. Julia so brilliantly demonstrated how to prank with just a few, well-timed words. Like the very first stunt she pulled at the party three weeks ago, when she started an irritating STD rumor that I still hear whispers of. There's no weight to the rumor, of course. I get tested regularly and I'm clean as a whistle, but that's besides the point. I'm going to pull the prank that ends the prank war. Something Julia won't be able to think long enough to prevent. Something that will send her crawling away with her tail between her legs.
I can't think of a better way of setting this war to rest than to get her to admit what she's been trying to deny all along. After all, it's the reason behind everything. It's what fuels her need to be combative with me, her reluctance to give into it. She might not realize it herself, but it's also the reason she got between me and the blonde at the party.
Julia wants me. I know it and she knows it, too. It's about time we address the obvious between us. She's too headstrong to ever say it aloud, but her body speaks for her. The plan is simple; I'll get her alone, get her guard down a little, and go in for a kiss. She will give in because she won't be able to resist doing what she's wanted to do for a month now. She'll surrender with a simple kiss and that will be the end of it all.
Tonight might be the night. It's Friday and Luke hooked a group of us up with his parents' house for the weekend. I doubt his parents know of their son's plan to throw a July Fourth party while they travel to the east coast. The Durant family has an insane house in Point Loma, overlooking the San Diego Yacht Club. I'm talking rooftop deck, downtown views, heated outdoor pool, jacuzzi, game room, and over 3,600 square feet to accommodate whatever antics vivid imaginations can dream up.
Ava takes the weekend off, not because she finally realized she needs a break, but because her boyfriend, Damien, is in town. She sees him once or twice a month ever since he took a summer internship in the Bay Area.
I've met the guy a few times before and it's plainly obvious he's crazy about her. What's important is that he can handle her. Damien's bullshit detector is sharp and he knows when Ava is leaning toward her tendency to mislead. I like that he keeps her in check.
Damien, Luke, and I sit on the rooftop deck with a few other guys, drinking beer and grilling some burgers. The girls are inside, supposedly changing into bathing suits but, judging from the amount of time they're taking, I'm guessing there's other female rituals involved in the process.
Brian, one of Luke's friends, is in the middle of a story when he halts mid-sentence. The patio doors squeal open behind us and all heads turn in that direction just as Julia steps out onto the deck holding a drink in her hand, alone.
If I were drunker, I might hang my head in disappointment at the fact that she's not in a bikini. She's still dressed in the jean shorts and the simple V-neck blouse that shows off her cleavage despite how often she tries to readjust it. I'm beginning to wonder if she's purposefully hiding her body, embarrassed of it somehow. It would be a damn shame because she's got the kind of shape fantasies are made of.
All the guys waver in varying degrees of throat clearing and seat shifting at the topic of the conversation we've just abandoned. Julia acts like she doesn't notice, taking a seat at the only opening, between Luke and Brian. The space is wide enough so that she isn't touching either of them, but as she settles in, Luke locks eyes with me and wiggles his eyebrows up and down a few times before plastering on an almost harmless expression. She's met all these guys before, with the exception of Damien, at the party we had at our house. But I don't like how comfortable she seems around them. It's as if she has no clue what her proximity does to men.
"What are you guys up to?" she asks, addressing the group, but looking directly at me.
"Trust me," Luke says, "you don't want to know."
Brian coughs up his drink then clears his throat. Julia looks unconcerned.
"Try me," she says.
"Brian was just telling us how he got caught by campus police last quarter, uh--" Luke snorts "--showing a lady the backstage area of the performance arts studio."
"Was there a show?" She stares straight at Brian, face so innocent, tone so unassuming, that it makes all of us go still. When he doesn't answer her, she pries further, "Are you a performance arts major?"
As Brian glances around for help on how to respond, Julia's innocent expression evaporates. "I'm just messing with you, Brian. Who were you screwing back there?"
Brian is hesitant at first to tell the story in front of her, but Julia prods him for details, nudging him until I'm left surprised by the graphic details he gives. Things we'd never say around a woman for fear of offending her.
But Julia just narrows her eyes at him and says, "Man, you're a disgusting asshole."
The guys laugh, though it's obvious she wasn't kidding. What's funny is the unapologetic way she says it, like it was the elephant in the room we needed to acknowledge after hearing his ridiculous story.
I pull out my phone and shoot her a text message.