I know I'm being an asshole. I just can't stop myself. I have this deep-seated need to see who is on that damned list. When she told me she wasn't scoping the joint for someone to take home, it was like this huge weight had been lifted off of me. It soon came back and crushed me all over again when she told me her next harebrained scheme.
I open the notebook and the first name makes me want to shake her. Tommy. Fuck no. End of discussion. I don't know the next name but when I see man-boobs written in a big pink glitter square along with the words “Is he a he?” I'm pretty sure this guy is as fucked up as her other choices. Another, no. Bobby Crenshaw? Does she not remember how miserable she was with that sad-sack? That'd be a big hell no.
The next name on the list causes my heart to lodge in my throat and my dick to push so hard against my jeans, it's painful. She wrote my name on this damn list, even after I was an asshole yesterday. Of course there’s a line through it, but I’m choosing to ignore that. Instead, I wonder. Obviously I'm having fantasies about my best friend that normally I'd steer one hundred and fifty percent clear of. This time, however, maybe it would be a good idea. I can work these feelings out of my system while giving Kayla what she wants. What could be the harm in that? It's like two friends helping each other out.
Before I can discuss it with her, however, I catch sight of the last name on the list. Green Lucas. My brother. My motherfucking brother is on a list of Kayla's potential candidates for knocking her up. My brother.
Well, that sure as hell is not going to work. Absolutely not. Over my fucking dead body.
"White," she starts, and I can see fear in her eyes. She's right to be afraid. She should be afraid. I should do what I threatened and carry her out of here, take her home, then spank her ass until it was so sore she couldn't sit down for a month. It'd be red and swollen and I'd need to take care of her. Maybe jack off and spread my cum all around it to soothe the ache.
What the hell is wrong with me?
This is Kayla I'm thinking about. My Kayla. My best friend. My buddy. The woman who has my brother on her list as a potential sperm donor. Son of a bitch.
"Green?"
"What? Oh! Yeah, I think it might work. He's obviously the best choice."
The best choice?
"I don't see that," I tell her. "I don't see that at all," I growl, flagging down a passing waitress.
"What are you doing?" she asks, watching me.
"Ordering a drink," I tell her, even if it's not necessary since the waitress comes over and I order a whiskey neat.
"I'll have one too!" Kayla chimes in, and I look back at her. "What? If you can have a drink, I can too. Especially since you already made sure I wasn't about to have baby making sex tonight."
"I don't think you need to drink. A person in your shape shouldn't be drinking."
"My shape?" she asks.
"Bat-shit crazy," I growl after a minute. Before she can say anything in response, the waitress comes back and puts our drinks down. "I'll have another one when you get time," I tell her.
I down the drink in one long, large gulp. It burns as it goes down, but nothing compared to the fire I already have in my gut thinking about Kayla in bed with my own fucking brother. The brother that she was in love with years and years ago.
"White?"
"I thought you didn't think of Green like that anymore?"
"Like what?"
"You know. Why the fuck is my brother on your list of sperm donors, Kayla?"
"Will you keep your voice down??" she hisses, but I've been an ass since I walked through the fucking door and I might as well keep it up.
"Why? You're planning on sleeping with my brother to harvest his sperm. Why should you be ashamed if everyone hears it?" I growl. The waitress puts down my other drink, her eyes large. Kayla grabs her notebook. I let her; it doesn't fucking matter anymore. She stands up and I look at her. "Where are you going?"
"I'm not staying here and letting you insult me. I've had enough."
"You put my brother on your damned list."
"So? He's a good choice. Shouldn't you be more concerned that your name is on the list?" she asks, her cheeks heated. She has a point, but then she doesn't know the fantasies she's been starring in lately. I'm not about to tell her, especially now that I know I'm interchangeable in her mind with my own fucking brother.
"I get it, Buttercup. Any Lucas brother will do, right? Why not go for Cyan? He's the baby brother. He’s younger. His swimmers are probably more potent. Sit down, will you? You're taking my attention from my drink."
"Ohhh… Cyan! I didn't think about him. Do you think he'd be willing?"
Be willing?
"Christ on a merry-go-round," I mutter, kicking myself for giving her yet another Lucas brother to daydream about. "Cyan's off-limits!"
"Off-limits? Why?"
"He's in love with the town librarian."