Lucky Kisses(8)By: Addison Moore
“You most certainly do,” I scoff as I make my way to the exit. “A girl just knows these things.”
Lawson keeps steady pace beside me, and I wait until we’re outside in the cool January air to slap his chest silly.
“Would you stop following me!” I give him one final smack, and, honest to God, my hand stings from the effort. “I am not your ex, or your next. I know guys like you.” I jump up on my tiptoes until my teeth are within biting distance of his neck. “You like to play games once you get your ego bruised because it makes you feel powerful and in charge. Well, guess what? The only thing you’ll ever be in charge of again is Rosy Palm because I plan on spreading my own rumors around campus just like you did in that bar. By the time I’m through with you—with the fictional history of us—you’ll wish you had enrolled in the priesthood rather than Whitney Briggs. And forget trying to troll for a good time anywhere in Hollow Brook either. You’ve crossed the wrong person, buddy. I’ll make sure you never get laid in this town again if it’s the last thing I do!”
I watch his Adam’s apple rise and fall, assuring me that I’ve struck a carnal cord.
“Blue balls,” I huff as I storm off across the street toward Whitney Briggs.
“Yeah? Well, you’re never getting laid again either, sweetheart!” he thunders so loud my bones quake from humiliation. “And just in case you’re wondering—psycho is a good look on you! Keep it up! Oh, wait, you don’t have to! It comes naturally!”
As soon as I round out the corner from the Hallowed Grounds coffee shop, I enter into a sprint all the way to my dorm.
What the hell was that all about?
What the hell was that all about?
The iced air ushers me back inside, back to the warmth of the boisterous Black Bear with its beer breath and bevy of chicks in short dresses despite the frosty weather.
I pan the room for Rush or Grant before it hits me they’ve both taken off to get laid for the night. Getting laid. Now that’s something I can sink my teeth into. A nice, tall, blonde maybe. A horny as hell brunette. Heck, I’ll take a redhead who’s willing to set my dick on fire. I scan the vicinity and spot a redhead indeed waving me over. Only it’s not a fiery prospect for the night. It’s my sister.
I head to where she’s seated with friends and lean in to give her a brief embrace. “Scarlett.” I nod over to Rex, my stepbrother whom she happens to be sleeping with. The idea still sends me in a tailspin, so I try to push it the hell out of my mind. In all fairness, they fell for one another prior to the day my father married Rex’s mother. But that doesn’t excuse the fact that my family is fifty shades of fucked up, and this right here is a prime example why.
Scarlett gives my hand a tug. She’s pretty as far as girls go, and ironically the spitting image of the mother I haven’t seen in years. “Since Dad and Lynn aren’t really planning anything, Rex and I thought we’d host a surprise birthday party for the twins.”
“A surprise?” Knox and Trixy are pretty cool, but I doubt they’d be into an old school surprise party. And knowing my sister, it will very much include balloons and streamers, and perhaps even a rousing game of Pin the Tail on the Donkey. Knox has mentioned a time or two his disdain for being treated like a six-year-old, even the moniker the twins wears on him. He and his sister were held back a year or they’d be here at Briggs with me right now, and I wish they were. I prefer both Knox and Trixy to Rex. Don’t get me wrong. I’m pretty proud of what Rex can do on the field, but it’s what he does behind closed doors that gets under my skin. “They’ll hate it.” There. At least someone is sticking up for them.
“They’ll love it,” Rex counters as he stands and offers me five. “We’ll have it here at the Black Bear. I talked to Bryson, the guy who owns the place, and he said we could have the poolroom.”
“Poolroom, huh?” I frown in that direction. A part of me wants to frown at the entire facility. Lucky and her little tantrum left a bad taste in my mouth. I’m not sure why I was messing with her so brutally other than out of sheer boredom. She’s wound tight like a nun in a whorehouse, and a part of me wanted to get under her skin. And, according to that micropenis comment, mission accomplished on that front. On second thought, Lucky is no nun in a whorehouse. She has a mouth on her, and she’s not afraid to use it. “Yeah, the party sounds good.” I’m quick to change my tune. “Just let me know when, and I’m in.” I’m sure Knox will get over any trauma my sister and Rex throw his way.