Page 9 of My Rose

I opened the passenger-side door from where I remained sitting in the driver’s seat as Clarissa tapped her foot along the pavement.She bent over the seat, peering inside like someone could fit in the non-existent backseat. “You’re late, Briggsy.”

My jaw worked at the annoying tone she used, and the god-awful nickname I’d always hated. “I’m ten minutes early.” I didn’t bother lifting my wrist to check the time. Punctuality was deeply ingrained into who I was.

“Daddy always says, ‘Ten minutes early is fifteen minutes late.’” She sat down in the seat, rubbing her fingers and tapping her pointed, fake nails along the car door immediately after it shut. “I’ve missed this.” She flipped her red hair over her shoulder, probably trying to accentuate her shoulders or chest or some part of her she wanted me to look at.

“I can’t say I feel the same.” I ignored her scoff and typed in the address she’d given me in one of her several texts before pulling out of the long driveway. Between the five photos of different outfits and one in barely-there lingerie that I immediately scrolled beyond, she’d talked almost non-stop about going to the party and getting out of her ‘boring’ home. Her mother left the day after Clarissa arrived to travel around Europe for the week, and honestly, I couldn’t blame her for wanting to get out of the empty mansion because I never wanted to be in mine, either. But her loneliness usually took the form of sexual frustration, which only seemed to get worse because I wasn’t biting.

“This address is in town.” I knew exactly whose house it was, too.

“Uh-huh.” She twirled her gum around her long nails before popping it back in and smacking down on it loudly.

My jaw worked. “You don’t like Shuster.”

“No, but I like parties. And alcohol.AndI brought party favors.” She pulled out a small, clear bag with white powder inside and flicked the bag between her fingers, settling the powder to the bottom.

“Clarissa.” I held my hand out. “No.”

“No?”

“Fuck no.”

She pouted and I could almost hear her eyes rolling as she whined, “You’re no fun anymore.” She slapped the bag into my hand as my other hand rolled the car window down, my knee taking the wheel. I tossed the bag and closed the window before she could get another word out.

“What if a squirrel eats that?” she shrieked, the false sympathy not coming through as convincingly as she had intended.

I shrugged. “Sounds like the squirrel’s in for a good night, then.”

“Ha! So you do think it’s fun.” She poked my bicep with her finger and I flinched back from her cold touch.

“It’s fucking stupid is what it is. You know what you’re like when you take that.” I didn’t doubt there were close to a hundred guys who knew exactly what she was like on it. In reality, I just didn’t want to put up with her touching me, or anyone else, and having to haul her ass back home after whatever embarrassing stunt she’d inevitably pull.

“You don’t even know what it was. Maybe it was—”

“Molly. Not even pure, at that. Don’t think I could ever forget your drug of choice for parties. Kind of hardtoforget.” Because I’d usually find her later that night. With or on top of someone.

“Oh, don’t be so broody. Bygones and all. Besides, I’ve grown since then.”What, two inches because of the stilettos?

“Says the girl who just pulled out a bag of Molly in my car, and sent me, along with possibly five other men, a nude photo.” She eyed me over, folding her arms over her chest as we turned down the road the party was on.

“I wasn’t nude.” Clarissa lowered her voice and slouched in the seat. “And it was only three others,” she mumbled under her breath.Yeah, if that three had a one in front or after it, I’d be more inclined to believe her.

I parked several houses down, not wanting to cause a scene with the car which made Clarissa groan. “Seriously, why do you have to be so weird about being filthy rich? I enjoy it, you should, too.” I didn’t bother replying. She’d never get it, anyway. We exited the car and she cursed as her too-high heel found a crack in the sidewalk. “Briggsy, can you just carry me there? My shoes are going to break before I get to do anything fun in them.”

“No. And I’d prefer it if you kept your promise and didn’t try to touch anyone. That includes, at the top of the fucking list, me.”

“It wasn’t too long ago that you really loved it when I—”

I cut her off, “Years. It’s beenyears.” And loving anything about Clarissa was a bit of a stretch.

She shrugged and adjusted the bottom of her black dress that barely skimmed her ass implants. “Right. All the more reason to reacquaint ourselves.”

I shoved my hands in my pockets. “Never happening again.”

“Why, is there a girl?”

I paused, bending down to fix the ties of my shoelaces.Is there a girl?No, not really. But knowing we were about to be at August’s house was making me tense. I’d wanted to beat the fuck out of the guy for years, but I was fighting that urge knowing that Rose would be there, too. She’d see me for who I was, and that same pitiful look she gave me at Jim’s would turn into hatred. Something about the thought of her hating me, for seeing the monster I really was, was making my teeth grind and my fingers twitch.

I stood, brushing my hands on my jeans before continuing. “You look like you need a drink more than I do, Briggsy.” Clarissa stopped and cursed as her heel found another crack. “Is this town so poor they can’t fix the fucking sidewalks?”

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