Screwed
Page 7
Instead I rub a hand through my sleep-styled hair and lean my hip against the counter. “Do you know of a good yoga place I can take my friend Emery this morning?”
“Friend?” she asks, choking on the word.
I grit my teeth and hit the Brew button on the machine. “Yeah, she’s new in town.”
Several moments of silence follow. If it weren’t for the two little voices arguing in the background, I might have thought she hung up on me. “Beth?”
“Yeah. I’m here. Sorry, just a little flabbergasted.”
“About?” I roll my eyes, knowing what’s coming.
“You have a female friend, and you’re taking her to yoga .” She enunciates each word in a tone of pure disbelief.
Precious drops of dark liquid drop into my waiting mug and I consider, briefly, licking them out rather than waiting for the cup to finish brewing.
“Yes. Why?” My tone is short, but shit—after Hudson’s pep talk, Beth’s attitude is pissing me off. Doesn’t anyone believe I can keep my dick in my pants? It only makes me want to prove them all wrong.
“Well, for starters, you don’t have female friends, and secondly, you don’t do yoga. Forgive me for being completely caught off guard here. Who are you and what have you done with my brother? Plus, why are you up so early?”
“I could do yoga,” I say, my male pride wounded. It can’t be that hard, can it?
“Of course you can, it’s a free country. I’m just confused. Are you feeling okay? Are you sick?”
My headache intensifying, I take a deep breath. “Will you help me or not?” All humor is gone from my tone. I didn’t expect a fight when I called her this morning. I called needing answers, not to play Twenty Questions. I knew Beth’s mommy friends did yoga, and I knew she wouldn’t steer me wrong. If she could focus long enough to give me the damn information.
“Take her to Deep Connections on Sepulveda.”
The name of the studio sends my thoughts spiraling—about just how deeply I’d like to connect with my new neighbor Emery—preferably my cock in her warm cunt. Mmm . . .
“Hayden, did you hear me?”
“Yeah. I’ve got it. Thanks, sis.”
“I’m on their website. There’s a class starting in forty minutes. Now, I want to hear more about this Emery.” I can hear the smile in her voice.
“She’s a lawyer.” Almost . Sort of.
“Wow. A girl with brains. That’s a nice change of pace for you. Tell me about her.”
Smirking at the memory of meeting Miss Succulent New-in-Town Brunette, I grab my cup of espresso. “I thought you had a yogurt situation to take care of.”
“What? No. That can wait.”
It’s then I notice that her kids have gone completely silent. Either that or she’s locked herself in the bathroom, hoping for some privacy while she grills me for details about my private life. Ding, ding, ding. That’s the much more likely scenario.
My gut instinct is to blow Beth off, to tell her it’s none of her business. But as I stride across my living room and sink into my favorite leather armchair, I realize that would be a dick move. Even though she’s annoying at times, Beth and I are super close. Despite being my older sister, she’s also one of my closest friends. I eat dinner with her family a few times a week. When she needed an emergency C-section with her second baby, I was the one who moved into her guest room for two weeks to help take care of her and the baby after her husband, David, returned to work. And she’s always been there for me no matter the favor, big or small.
“Hayden, stop holding out on me. There’s got to be a story here. Spill it.”
I chuckle at her desperation before taking another sip of my scalding-hot beverage. “There is. And I’ll tell it to you.”
“But not right now?” she says, the hope in her voice fading.
“If I’m going to make it to that class, I’ve got to go meet Emery.” Glancing at the clock, I see it’s already almost six.
“Fine. Dinner Tuesday night?”
“Of course. Will you make those little crab roll-up things with the sweet chili sauce?” I ask in the kindest voice I can muster.
“No one likes those but you,” she says with a sigh. She sounds tired, and hell, I would be too after chasing around two mini humans all day, hell-bent on destroying everything in their wake. Damn, I shudder just thinking about it.
“No, you don’t have to bother, then. Forget I asked, and I’ll see you on Tuesday.”
“Have fun at yoga,” she says, a teasing lilt to her voice.
Despite the caffeine coursing through my veins, I don’t feel any better than I did when I woke up this morning, grumpy and hung-the-fuck-over.
Heading into my bedroom, I step inside the walk-in closet, trying to figure out what one wears to do yoga. I settle on a pair of loose-fitting navy athletic shorts and a gray T-shirt. After brushing my teeth, I grab my wallet, keys, and cell phone where they’re resting on the kitchen island, and head out into the bright sunshine of yet another perfect day in LA.
I grunt the whole way down the stairs, wondering why in the fuck I agreed to this—hell, I practically insisted on it. I’m grumpy. I’m pissed off. And as I knock on Emery’s door, I stand there seething and silently cursing at myself.
When it opens, Emery’s waiting there, looking delicious in a formfitting pair of black leggings and a pink tank top, and I remember exactly why I invited her out today. Hello there, inappropriate boner. Nice timing, dickhead.
“Friend?” she asks, choking on the word.
I grit my teeth and hit the Brew button on the machine. “Yeah, she’s new in town.”
Several moments of silence follow. If it weren’t for the two little voices arguing in the background, I might have thought she hung up on me. “Beth?”
“Yeah. I’m here. Sorry, just a little flabbergasted.”
“About?” I roll my eyes, knowing what’s coming.
“You have a female friend, and you’re taking her to yoga .” She enunciates each word in a tone of pure disbelief.
Precious drops of dark liquid drop into my waiting mug and I consider, briefly, licking them out rather than waiting for the cup to finish brewing.
“Yes. Why?” My tone is short, but shit—after Hudson’s pep talk, Beth’s attitude is pissing me off. Doesn’t anyone believe I can keep my dick in my pants? It only makes me want to prove them all wrong.
“Well, for starters, you don’t have female friends, and secondly, you don’t do yoga. Forgive me for being completely caught off guard here. Who are you and what have you done with my brother? Plus, why are you up so early?”
“I could do yoga,” I say, my male pride wounded. It can’t be that hard, can it?
“Of course you can, it’s a free country. I’m just confused. Are you feeling okay? Are you sick?”
My headache intensifying, I take a deep breath. “Will you help me or not?” All humor is gone from my tone. I didn’t expect a fight when I called her this morning. I called needing answers, not to play Twenty Questions. I knew Beth’s mommy friends did yoga, and I knew she wouldn’t steer me wrong. If she could focus long enough to give me the damn information.
“Take her to Deep Connections on Sepulveda.”
The name of the studio sends my thoughts spiraling—about just how deeply I’d like to connect with my new neighbor Emery—preferably my cock in her warm cunt. Mmm . . .
“Hayden, did you hear me?”
“Yeah. I’ve got it. Thanks, sis.”
“I’m on their website. There’s a class starting in forty minutes. Now, I want to hear more about this Emery.” I can hear the smile in her voice.
“She’s a lawyer.” Almost . Sort of.
“Wow. A girl with brains. That’s a nice change of pace for you. Tell me about her.”
Smirking at the memory of meeting Miss Succulent New-in-Town Brunette, I grab my cup of espresso. “I thought you had a yogurt situation to take care of.”
“What? No. That can wait.”
It’s then I notice that her kids have gone completely silent. Either that or she’s locked herself in the bathroom, hoping for some privacy while she grills me for details about my private life. Ding, ding, ding. That’s the much more likely scenario.
My gut instinct is to blow Beth off, to tell her it’s none of her business. But as I stride across my living room and sink into my favorite leather armchair, I realize that would be a dick move. Even though she’s annoying at times, Beth and I are super close. Despite being my older sister, she’s also one of my closest friends. I eat dinner with her family a few times a week. When she needed an emergency C-section with her second baby, I was the one who moved into her guest room for two weeks to help take care of her and the baby after her husband, David, returned to work. And she’s always been there for me no matter the favor, big or small.
“Hayden, stop holding out on me. There’s got to be a story here. Spill it.”
I chuckle at her desperation before taking another sip of my scalding-hot beverage. “There is. And I’ll tell it to you.”
“But not right now?” she says, the hope in her voice fading.
“If I’m going to make it to that class, I’ve got to go meet Emery.” Glancing at the clock, I see it’s already almost six.
“Fine. Dinner Tuesday night?”
“Of course. Will you make those little crab roll-up things with the sweet chili sauce?” I ask in the kindest voice I can muster.
“No one likes those but you,” she says with a sigh. She sounds tired, and hell, I would be too after chasing around two mini humans all day, hell-bent on destroying everything in their wake. Damn, I shudder just thinking about it.
“No, you don’t have to bother, then. Forget I asked, and I’ll see you on Tuesday.”
“Have fun at yoga,” she says, a teasing lilt to her voice.
Despite the caffeine coursing through my veins, I don’t feel any better than I did when I woke up this morning, grumpy and hung-the-fuck-over.
Heading into my bedroom, I step inside the walk-in closet, trying to figure out what one wears to do yoga. I settle on a pair of loose-fitting navy athletic shorts and a gray T-shirt. After brushing my teeth, I grab my wallet, keys, and cell phone where they’re resting on the kitchen island, and head out into the bright sunshine of yet another perfect day in LA.
I grunt the whole way down the stairs, wondering why in the fuck I agreed to this—hell, I practically insisted on it. I’m grumpy. I’m pissed off. And as I knock on Emery’s door, I stand there seething and silently cursing at myself.
When it opens, Emery’s waiting there, looking delicious in a formfitting pair of black leggings and a pink tank top, and I remember exactly why I invited her out today. Hello there, inappropriate boner. Nice timing, dickhead.
