“W,” she growls.
I knew that, but I kinda like making her eyes blaze with anger like that. If she’s angry at me, then that means she’s not ignoring me. I don’t like being ignored.
“You’re gonna have to make out with me eventually. It’s part of the deal,” I remind her.
“I have to kiss you. Not make out with you. There’s a difference.”
I laugh. Is that what she tells herself? “Really? Because our lips will be pressed together. My hands will be somewhere on your body. Maybe your ass. In your hair. My tongue’s gonna be in your mouth.”
Her eyes flash again and this time the heat in them isn’t entirely because she’s pissed off. Then again, I could be imagining things.
“I’m good with my tongue, Vaughn.” I smile at her. “You’re gonna find that out soon enough.”
“There will be no tongue,” she sputters. “No one said there would be tongue!”
I can’t help myself. “You never swap spit with ol’ Xylophone? You sure this kid isn’t using you as a beard?”
“Oh, my God. It’s W, which you know, and what I do with W is none of your damned business.” She folds her arms across her chest and stares straight at the blank television screen.
My retort stalls in my throat because her action pushes her tits together in a pretty fantastic way. I wonder if I should tell her that I can now see the white lace of her bra cups peeking over the top of her tank. Nah, what she doesn’t know can’t hurt her.
Besides, if she’s going to be a complete asshole, I should get the pleasure of looking at her rack. I leisurely inspect her as I tip the bottle back. Vaughn is about as far from my type as possible. I like them leggy, with big boobs and a lot of hair. She’s got the hair, but she’s kind of on the short side—I’d peg her around five and a half feet—and she doesn’t have a ton going on upstairs, but what she does have is nice to look at.
“What do you want to watch?” she asks.
I almost say you but catch myself in time. She looks like a girl who slaps. Hard. “Movie?”
“Sure.”
I pick up the remote and turn the TV on. A few more flicks and I’m at the movie listings. “Pick one.”
She picks the first one on the list, which tells me she doesn’t care what we’re watching. Unfortunately, she’s chosen my dad’s latest Oscar bait flick, but I don’t mention that. It’s a World War II epic with long battle scenes. Dad is particularly proud that he survived a Navy SEAL’s two-week-long training period to prep for this movie, and he’ll tell anyone who’ll listen about how he coulda been a SEAL if it wasn’t for his whole passion for acting.
The man can’t drink tap water, for Christ’s sake.
I don’t think what movie she picked registers with Vaughn. She doesn’t watch the opening credits, but instead spends the entire time with her nose pressed to her phone.
“What’re you doing?” I’m annoyed that she’s not watching the movie even though I can’t stand my dad.
“Checking my boyfriend’s Instagram,” she says wistfully.
Jesus. Again with the guy. I narrow my eyes. “You’re not supposed to have contact with him.” I sound jealous, but I’m really not. I just don’t want to break in another chick for this pretend gig. It’s hard enough with Vaughn. Who knows what kind of female I’d get next? With my luck, it’d be a stage-five clinger who thinks we’re going to get married. AKA April Showers but on emotional steroids.
“Public contact.” She juts her chin toward me defiantly. “No one said I’m not allowed to look at his Instagram. I do everything else Claudia demands, including quitting my job.”
“You have a job?” I’m paying the girl a fortune and she has another job?
“I did. I was a waitress at Sharkey’s.” She crosses her arms again.
Forcibly, I move my eyes to the coffee table. “Never heard of it.”
“It’s a chain. They serve steak.”
I roll my eyes. “Sounds like you loved it.”
“I made good money there.”
“Did Alphabet love it?”
She scowls. “No, why?”
I pluck her phone from her hand and scan the feed. W is attending college and his feed consists of his “crew,” a bunch of backward-hat-wearing bro dudes who are surgically attached to red Solo cups and too much plaid. “He looks like a douche.”
She grabs the phone back. “He’s not a douche. He’s great.”
“Okay, tell me what’s so great about him,” I challenge.
“He’s kind...he’s funny...” She trails off. “He’s kind.”
Kind? Man, if any girl ever describes me as kind in the same lukewarm tone, I hope someone takes me out back and shoots me. “You said that already.”
Her jaw snaps shut and she stares at the television.
That’s no fun. “Besides the fact that he’s kind,” I say sarcastically, “why him out of all the guys you could have?”
She casts me a dirty glance. “You make it sound like there’s a buffet of guys and I can just pick out anyone I want. It doesn’t work that way in the real world. The person you like has to like you back.”
“Are you saying you like W because he was your only choice?” I ask incredulously. I can’t believe that. This girl? She’s got to have a few of the high school guys after her. I never went to an actual high school, but Vaughn’s a babe in her own way. I’d totally want to tap that ass between classes.
“He wasn’t my only choice. I like him. I don’t have to justify my feelings to you.”
“How’d you meet?”
“Why do you want to know?”
Because I’d rather shave my legs than watch my dad act. “I figure the two of us should get to know each other, seeing as we have to spend an entire year together. Sitting in complete silence during all our dates doesn’t sound like a boatload of fun. Not to mention you may want to consider being a little nicer, considering that I’m paying you a fucking fortune for this gig.”
Her brown eyes widen and her plump lips fall open, forming a little circle—one that has me conjuring up some dirty ideas.
Then she scoffs. “Oh, come on, like you’re actually the one paying.”
“Who the hell else would it be? The tooth fairy?”
“I thought it was Jim.”
“Who do you think writes checks to Jim?” I scrunch my eyebrows. Is she that clueless?
“Oh.”
I guess so. “Yeah, oh.”
“What is it that you want to know?”
The question comes out as a sigh, as if it’s such a burden to talk to me, and suddenly I’m done. There are worse things than watching a film starring my dad, and one of them is trying to drag out boring details from an ordinary girl who has to be paid to sit and watch a movie with me.