A Perfect Ten
Page 102
Milk Tits scowled even harder. “For a half of a split second, there was a moment when I felt a smidgen of unease.” She shuddered. “It was the worst half a split second of my life. So, thank you very much, you asshat, for making me experience it.” She shoved me in the shoulder and stormed off to talk to Lowe and Buttercup, who were turning burgers on the grill. Hamilton and Blondie were also around, playing with Pick and Eva’s two toddlers. And Hart was over by the coolers of beer.
I started his way, needing a drink bad. When he saw me coming, he grinned.
“Hey, Ten. Check this out. I’ve been practicing.”
He flipped an empty alcohol bottle into the air and caught it behind his back. Once he had it in hand, he brought it around to the front and pretended to pour it into an invisible cup. With a grin, he glanced up to gauge my reaction. “Think that’ll get me more tips if I do it at work?”
It was actually a kick-ass move. But I scowled as if unimpressed. “You just always gotta work to be better than me, don’t you?”
He laughed. “Work at it? Not really. It just comes naturally to be better than you.”
“Whatever.”
I started to turn away, but he called after me. “Not a fan of Cocktail, huh?”
Pausing, I glanced back. “Cock-what?”
“Cocktail. The eighties movie. Tom Cruise. Elisabeth Shue.”
I shook my head. “Never seen it.”
“What about Coyote Ugly then?” He proceeded to flip the bottle over his hand and catch it again.
Damn show-off. I shook my head. “Coyote Ugly?” I echoed stupidly. “Is that another movie or something?” Okay, I’d actually watched that one because it had advertised hot chicks, but I wasn’t about to let him know that.
Hart sighed and shook his head. “Man, you’re hopeless. Ooh, Caroline.” Glancing past me, he grinned. “Check it. I taught myself.”
I tensed, surprised to learn she’d come up behind me and I hadn’t even sensed her. As I turned to glance at her, she watched Hart do both his Cocktail and Coyote Ugly tricks.
“Oh, cool.” Her smile for him made me grind my teeth. “That’s from Cocktail, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Thank you.” Hart arched me a look, but I rolled my eyes.
“That’s not fair. She’s a fucking movie geek with a filmmaking major.”
Her mouth fell open “Did you just call me a geek?”
I grinned and shifted a little closer to her. “A hot geek.”
Her face lit with pleasure before her eyebrows wrinkled. Realizing just how close I’d gotten to her, she gasped and widened her eyes before darting a quick, cautious glance toward Hart. “Oren,” she warned under her breath.
“What? He already knows. In fact,” I glanced at everyone already at the party, “I’m sure everyone here knows. Pick clued in Milk Tits, who probably told Buttercup, who would’ve told Lowe. And Zwinn’s been in on it from the beginning. I think Gam is literally the only person who doesn’t know, and he just called saying he was running late, which means….” I caught her by surprise and grabbed her around the waist. “I can totally do this.”
Yanking her toward me, I tucked her spine against my front and buried my face into the side of her throat where I proceeded to nibble on tender flesh. She yelped out her surprise and clutched the arm I had wrapped around her.
“And this.” My hand strayed up as if I was going to cup her breasts right through her shirt.
“Oren!” Scandalized but still laughing, she grabbed my wrist, stopping me. “Cut it out.” She spun out of my arms to face off with me. “You’re playing with fire.” Then she went and jabbed her finger into my gut.
I laughed and dodged away when she came at me again. “Woman,” I warned. “Don’t poke me.”
With a playful laugh, she charged. “Don’t be such a baby. I like it when you poke me.”
As I caught her and imprisoned her arms, I threw my head back and roared with laughter.
Hart covered his face with one hand and groaned. “Jesus. She’s got as dirty a mind as you do, Ten.”
“I know.” Pressing my cheek to hers, I grinned proudly and swayed back and forth with her. “Isn’t it great?”
“Yo, Ten,” Lowe called from across the yard. “Noel’s walking up the front driveway.”
I lifted my face and frowned at him. “What? But he just texted, saying he was running late.”
“Well, he’s on time now, I guess.”