Page 73 of Hot Mess Express
“Sit.” He slaps the bed next to him.
I come inside the guestroom. My eyes flit over the mess ofhis eviscerated luggage and all the clothing carnage spilled out on the floor around it. “Christ. It’s just been a handful of days here and you’ve already tornadoed this nice room.”
“Almost a week actually, and I don’t hear anyone complaining except you. Sit.”
“You could still treat the room you’ve been given with a little more respect. Would it kill you to lay some socks in a drawer?”
“How’d it go with lover boy tonight?”
I meet his eyes and frown. “Lover who?” I ask dryly, swiping the charger off his nightstand.
He swipes it right back, grabs my phone out of my hand, then plugs it in for me and sets it down. “I know you took Anthony out for a date. Trey and Cody know, too. We’ve all been watching this slow-motion train wreck since we got into town.”
“Slow-motion—? The hell you talking about?”
“I just wanna know how it went, man.”
I sit down next to him on the bed, white-knuckling the edge of it. Finally I give in. “He got spooked.”
“Spooked?”
“Everything went fine until …” Should I be telling Pete this? It feels too personal, what happened tonight. My eyes keep drifting to the mess on the floor. “Nah, I don’t feel right talking about it.”
“Don’t go closing up on me before you started. What spooked him? Seeing your tree trunk? Did you almost let him blow you?”
“Why do I gotta mommy you all the time?” I mumble as I get right back off the bed and start grabbing his clothes off the floor.
Pete watches me for a little while, smirking like he knows something. “He didn’t put out? Is that it? He blue-balled you?”
“Are these even clean?” I start picking out shirts to fold.
“Cody and I got a bet going that you guys are gonna have sex by Saturday, how you’ve been eye-fucking each other all week.”
“Why’d you pack so much damned underwear?”
“We’re going to a gay dance club outta town tomorrow night, all of us, even me.” He grins. “Can’t wait to dance my stupid ass off and disappoint so many guys.”
“If I’m going, then all the guys are gonna hit on me instead, remember? Everyone on earth hits on me, according to you.”
“Ouch, savage, right in the heart,” he exclaims dramatically as he falls back, then props his head up and creeps to the foot of the bed to watch me. “Why’re you folding my underwear, weirdo?”
I sit back on my heels with a huff. “I’m not uptight,” I say to some figment of Anthony in front of me.
Pete’s confused. “Huh?”
“And I wasn’tscoldingyou,” I go on, still talking to Anthony. “I’m not your damneddaddy.”
“You talking about Anthony? You guys have a fight?”
I sigh. “He’s just … He’s too impulsive. Flies off the hat at the drop of a handle.”
“Even yoursayingsare fucking each other, you’re so pent-up.”
“You have to think first before you throw fists at anyone who looks at you wrong. He’s so damned immature.” I slap a folded pair of boxers onto the stack I’ve made, then glower when the stack goes sideways. I peel off the top one and refold it. “I can’t reason with a guy like that. It’s driving me crazy.”
“Seems he’s driving you crazy inseveralways.”
I snap my eyes at Pete. “You’re not helping.”
