“He already likes you,” Lynsey corrects. “He just needs to like you enough to sleep with you.”
“He sounds like a tool, if you ask me,” Dean grumbles.
“He’s not a tool,” I defend. “He’s…I don’t know what he is. Getting over someone maybe? Gah. He only wants casual, and he doesn’t think I can be a casual girl.”
“Can you?” Lynsey asks, her brown eyes curious.
“Fuck yeah!” I exclaim with a little dance I think a casual, cool girl would do. “I write casual sex like it’s my job because it literally is.” I smile lamely at my dumb joke, and my friends are super impressed.
“Screw it, you guys are good down here, right? I’m going to go upstairs and get ready because I am officially going to be late for my own party. Lynsey, start the music and hold down the fort while I go beautify!”
“On it, boss!”
“Dean…guard that shitty beer.”
Forty-five minutes later, I stride down the steps to find my The End party in full swing. I’m dressed in a pair of lacy white shorts and a flowy nude tank with camel wedges. I’ve trussed my red hair up into a side braid down my shoulder, and I’m feeling footloose and fancy-free. I am ready to party.
Several of our old friends have made it out, as well as some new faces who Lynsey knows from grad school. I instantly get sucked into a conversation with a couple of girlfriends from college who all congratulate me on finishing. One calls me Kate, and I drag her into the kitchen to take a shot. Mostly because I think Dean might start crying if someone put their lips on his precious keg tapper.
Dean introduces me to his co-working space friends who won’t shut up about this new bakery down the street from their building. Before I know it, I realize it’s a couple of hours into the party and Miles still isn’t here.
I excuse myself from some friends to go see who’s out back. Maybe Miles has been here this whole time, and I didn’t know it. I do a cursory sweep of the outside in hopes of seeing a tall, dark, and handsome fella but am disappointed just to find Lynsey and all her grad school friends.
She smiles brightly and comes striding out of her tiki bar to pass me a fruity beverage in a tall glass. “Drink it slowly, Mercedes. This shit is strong. I’ve had two, and I think I’m black-out drunk right now.”
“Jesus,” I exclaim, taking a sip and feeling an instant burning in my mouth. “No wonder. I think this might be worse than Dean’s shitty IPA.”
Dean’s growl scares me from behind. “It’s not shitty.” Without warning, he dives straight for my legs, and I just barely hand my drink off to Lynsey before he tosses me over his shoulder. “Mercedes is doing a keg stand, everyone!”
Our friends all whoop with cheers, and I bellow over their voices. “Mercedes is not doing a keg stand because Mercedes likes Coors Light and complimentary coffee…and writing sex books!”
I hear cheers from both inside and outside, and because I’m feeling no pain, I decide to keep going. “And hard and fast wall sex!”
They all laugh and cheer out some more. This is fun! I have my own personal cheering track, so I continue, “And Mercedes likes a formal scene where the guy takes off a girl’s panties and fingers them in his tuxedo pocket all night long!”
I’m met with crickets…until finally, Lynsey chirps, “That was really specific but, yay!”
Everyone joins in, but it feels obligatory and far less enthusiastic than before, so I give it one last go to save face. “And I really love to write about anal play!”
The crowd cracks up laughing even more, but more wonderful cheering follows. I can even feel Dean’s shoulders shaking as he laughs and smacks my ass before dropping me back down to my feet.
When I turn around and right myself, I feel a head rush and try to focus my eyes on what’s in front of me. I’m staring into the very broad chest of a very large man in a super-hot black leather jacket. I lift my chin and practically swoon when I see it’s Miles. And he has a button-down on under his coat.
“Miles!” I exclaim and wrap my arms around his rock-hard body, still feeling euphoric from my version of a crowd surf I did a moment ago.
Dean clears his throat beside me and murmurs, “I’m going to head inside for a drink.”
I pull back to wave hello to Sam, who looks a bit uncomfortable next to Miles until he finally says, “I’m going to follow that guy.”
Lynsey sidles up next to me in the same breath, not the least bit intimidated by Miles’s statuesque posture. She thrusts her hand out and says, “Hi, I’m Lynsey, the best friend and neighbor. That’s my tiki bar over there.”
Miles slides his gaze to her and offers a small smile while shaking her hand. “I’m Miles.”
“Nice to meet you. Can I get you a drink? My tiki bar is open!” She waves her hands out proudly.
“I’m good for now, thanks,” Miles replies and looks back down at me. “Can we go somewhere and talk?”
I nod and grab his hand to lead him back inside. A group of Dean’s friends is standing right in front of my bedroom door, so I decide to take him upstairs to where I was getting ready earlier. When we pass by Dean at the keg, I see him cut narrow eyes at Miles. I flash my own daggers at Dean, silently telling him to back the fuck off as we veer left.
I can’t drag Miles up the stairs fast enough.
The light from the Edison bulbs is pouring through the back window into the dark bedroom, so I don’t even bother with the light switch. Miles walks into the room behind me like a dark, thunderous cloud. When I turn around to look at him, I realize this room has never felt so small.
He looks around, noticing men’s shoes on the floor in the open closet. “Do you have a roommate?”
My face heats instantly because this is nowhere near the conversation I want to have right now. Especially after Dean just flounced me around like a bimbo in front of everyone two seconds ago.
“Kind of?” I reply hesitantly.
“So it’s a guy,” Miles states, staring into the closet, then sliding his eyes to me.
There’s no hiding that fact now. “Yes.” I shrug.
He laughs and shakes his head. “It figures.” He presses a hand to his forehead as he paces the room. “It’s not that Dean guy, right? You said he was a neighbor.”
“He is a neighbor. It’s not Dean.”
“Then who is it?”
“No one,” I rush out, noticing that Miles is getting tenser and tenser by the second. The last thing he needs to hear is that I still kind of live with my dumbass ex-boyfriend. “He’s away for the summer, so it doesn’t matter.”
“But it’s a dude,” he snaps, his hands balling into frustrated fists at his sides. “Damnit, Mercedes, I can’t do this!”
“Do what?” I ask, my chest lifting with hope.
“I’m a jealous guy! You know that,” he exclaims, throwing his hands out wide in surrender as he points downstairs. “This is not the kind of shit I handle well.” He forks his hands through his hair, looking like he’s about to bolt.
But I don’t want him to bolt.
I want him to stay.
“I’m sorry, I should just go.”
He moves toward the door, and I dash in front of him, blocking his exit.
“My roommate is…gay,” I blurt, and my eyes fly wide at the lie that tumbled so easily from my lips. “And he’s out of town for the summer.”
Miles stares down at me, blinking. “Seriously?”
I shrug, completely unable to confirm it again because I still can’t believe I lied in the first place. “Tell me why are you turning into such a maniac right now? I thought you only wanted to be friends.”
He exhales heavily. “It’s a lot harder than I thought it would be.”
“Well, what can I do to help?” I ask, even though I don’t want to help. I want to bone.
Miles groans and pins me with a serious glower. “Babe, jealousy is an issue I have to keep in check constantly. I try not to be like this, but it’s virtually fucking impossible. I had almost ten years with a girl who took pleasure in fucking torturing me every chance she got.”