Bastard really did have comics, not that it mattered.
“Or . . .” He held up a finger. “I could just screw her sideways into Sunday.”
“Solid plan.” I exhaled. “I’m just going to go.”
“No!” He held out his hands. “You have to take the other one.”
“Avery,” I said through clenched teeth. “Not a chance in hell. You invited her here—ergo, you uninvite her so you can get in her best friend’s pants. I refuse to help.”
“I’ll fix your nose.” He winked.
“Low blow, you cock-sucking bastard.”
He sighed and ran his hands through his overly long, shaggy blond hair. If you didn’t know he was a plastic surgeon, you’d think he were a nomad living on the beach with a surfboard as company. “Look, just make up some lame excuse about getting her into bed at a decent hour so she can be fresh for Monday.”
“Tomorrow’s Sunday.”
“Is it?”
“Thatch.”
“Dude, you cheat on chicks all the time. Just do what you do best—get her out so I can get in.” His chest puffed out like he was proud of his own wordplay.
“It’s not cheating.” I rolled my eyes. How many times did I have to explain myself? Especially to my best friend.
Avery’s laughter caught my attention again.
I’d always loved her laugh.
Now it just reminded me that I’d gone four years without it. Laughs are funny like that; just like scents, they can be attached to memories you’d rather forget.
“Fine.” I let out a defeated sigh. “But you owe me, big.”
His only answer was to pull out a bottle of Prisoner sweet red wine and shrug.
“Minion!” I yelled, turning the corner and entering the living room. “Time to go.”
Avery crossed her arms and leaned back comfortably against the couch, stretching out her legs; they went on for days. I ignored the way they swelled gently into her full hips, just like I didn’t curse my best friend to hell when she licked her luscious lips and muffled out, “Yeah, I don’t think so.”
“Pretty sure”—I stalked toward her—“I didn’t ask what you think or thought. It’s getting late, and as much as I’m loath to admit it, I need you on your A game next week at work, alright? I would hate for you to get fired, live on the streets with the bums, and end up digging through trash cans for a Twinkie, all because you stayed up too late and refused to go night-night.”
Avery’s eyes narrowed into tight slits. “You’re—you’re—”
“Go.” Austin shrugged. “Besides, I think Thatch and I”—she grinned and released a happy sigh—“have some really important work to do too.”
“Slut,” Avery coughed.
“Jealous?” Austin fired back.
“She has a boyfriend,” I said smoothly, confidently, looking back and forth at Avery and then Austin. “Right? Male dancer?”
“Um.” Austin’s cheeks reddened as she slowly nodded. “Y-yes, she does.”
I don’t know why I did it, why my teenage self suddenly came alive like a vampire at night and decided to launch my adult body across the room and slap a hand over Avery’s mouth. “What’s his name again?” I said.
Avery tried to bite my hand.
Austin kept mumbling.
Avery kept biting.
Until Austin finally said, “I forget. They’ve only gone on two dates.”
“What?” I roared, pulling my hand back. “You slept with him after two dates?”
Avery groaned and covered her face with her hands. “You have no right to be angry when you sleep with a different girl every single night.”
“He doesn’t sleep with anyone on Sundays,” Thatch piped in as he made his way into the living room, where the third world war was breaking out.
“Thanks,” I said through clenched teeth.
He shrugged and offered Austin a glass of wine. “Want to see my comic book collection?”
I moaned, while Avery burst out laughing.
“Is that what the kids call it these days?” Austin stood and let out a sultry laugh. “Tell me you have costumes to go with, and I’m in.”
“God, where have you been all my life?”
“I think it’s time to go,” Avery whispered against my fingers.
Her lips were hot.
Her tongue touched my skin.
And I suddenly didn’t want to wash my hand—ever.
Which clearly meant that Avery and Austin were bringing down the average age of the group by their collective immaturity. Great, by next week I’d be twenty-one again, doing Irish car bombs and puking in the streets. Couldn’t wait for that fun!
Thatch led Austin to the bedroom, and I held out my hand to Avery. Naturally, she slapped it away because she was an ungrateful pain in my ass, but at least I’d offered.
We started walking out of the apartment in silence.
“Don’t forget your purse!” I called out just as she passed it.
With a near stumble and face-plant against the counter, Avery grabbed her purse and hooked her arm around it, then her blurry eyes connected with mine.
“Shit,” I muttered. “Are you drunk?”
“No!” She laughed while she said it.
I counted to five.
I was trying to keep myself from dropping enough F bombs to make her sob her eyes out and impale me with the shoes she was still having trouble walking in. If she was drunk, I couldn’t just happily send her on her way.