Page 70 of Drop Three

NAVY

“Fuckhim if he doesn’t see how special you are…”

Is. He. For. Real?

Yeah, because I would take romantic advice from someone like you, Bodhi St. James.

Mentally insane…cocksucker.

Jesus, I’m so angry I’m shaking.

After leaving the guys by the hot tub, I went upstairs to prepare for my date. The closer I got to the privacy of my own space, the angrier I became. Bodhi has a lot of nerve to try and convince me I’mworthyand any man would be lucky to date me.

He wrote the fucking book on screwing things up with a woman.

Entering my room, I slam my door with force. I know they can’t hear me from outside, but I feel better to let a spurt of frustration out on the heavy piece of wood. Maybe I’m being petty, but I’m exhausted from men trying to tell me what I do and do not deserve—especially leaving the mouth of the culprit to my hurt.

Bodhi made his choice, and I wasn’t it. He doesn’t get to act like he knows me and what kind of man I should be seeing.

Thank you, Bodhi, for reminding me of your colossal fuckup, making me even more excited for this date tonight with Briggs.

Because my brain is my own worst enemy, that’s not the only thing about the conversation at the hot tub that struck a nerve.

The side of me that has cared for Bodhi feels deeply moved by his mother’s preference for marigolds. I didn’t know that. It feels like a coincidence or some divine force intervening in that decision.

I’m glad he loves them, but I’m too mad at him to think further about it.

All I know right now is that I need to look hot as hell for this date tonight and show Bodhi St. James what he’s missing.

It’s time to make some noise.

21

BODHI

Since Navy wentto her room, I’ve cleaned the stovetop in the kitchen close to fifty times, but it still doesn’t feel clean enough.

My hands reek of multi-purpose cleaner, and the itch to scrub them clean isn’t even there.

I can’t think straight.

I clean when I’m stressed, and rest assured, this bitch is sparkling.

Cleaning and busyness, in general, is how I process and regroup. However, regrouping is not what I feel happening to my thoughts right now.

More like fighting the urge to run up to Navy’s room, throw her on the bed, and claim her for myself. To tattoo my name on her fucking skin so that Briggs knows who she belongs to.

More than that, it makes me miss her so damn much. I miss the quiet moments we had together where she told me about her day and I told her about mine. When Navy was still with Luke, we were friends. Friends who checked on each other and became a safety point for one another.

I can’t be reckless.

The small part of me that knows I have no choice but to keep the peace and accept her as a friend is at constant odds with the side of me that wants to love her.

But I can’t do that. Not only because I’ve already ruined my chances but also because Navy’s brother, Callaway, is currently chilling on my couch.

Cal texted the group chat shortly after Navy left us by the hot tub, saying he was on his way over. Kodi has plans with a new friend tonight, leaving him free time to hang out.

As frustrated as I am, I’m stoked to chill with my boy.

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