Page 23 of Trouble in Love
Though I would never admit to being excited, I called in sick at the restaurant, something I had never done before, and preparations began in earnest. A quick 10k on the treadmill was followed by a semi-grueling arm, tums, and buns workout, followed by the sauna. After that, I hit the showers, deluding myself that icy water would tighten the flab I felt still lingered. Waxing at the salon conveniently located three shops down from the gym came next, and then I was off to see Luna. Besides giving me some of the best head I’d ever experienced—before my cowboy, of course—she also did the best nails. Despite not having any intention to do so, the second I walked into the door, I confessed everything.
“Fuck you, PoI,” she squealed as she wrapped me in her arms and jumped us both up and down. It was so obnoxious. I didn’t smile at all.
“Ughh. Don’t be such a girl.”
“I can’t help it. And I can’t believe you’re seeing that hottie again and not taking me with you.”
“Like you’d take me if the roles were reversed. Besides, don’t you have a date with your own vagina expert?”
One corner of Luna’s mouth curved into a smile that she covered by slapping her hand across it. “Yes, I do,” she mumbled before I snatched it away. “Dr. Mahoney is taking me to The Clam Bar.”
“How apt,” I snorted.
“I know, right? But still. Banging the coach together again would have been fun.”
“And it still will be. But just for me.”
Overzealous words of glee were giggled into my ear as I was ushered to her makeshift nail table, shoved by the shoulders into a wheely chair, and forced to pick a color. The way she smiled during the entirety of the first coat was creepy. As was the lack of blinking while she interrogated me about my plans. “Other thangetting railed and then getting the hell out of there, I don’t have any,” I replied.
Looking mighty smug for someone with purple smudges all over their chin, she finished coating my nails with my signature shade of lavender and roughly slid my nails beneath the dryer-laquear setter thingy. “You’re a filthy liar. You like him. You wouldn’t be going to all this trouble if you didn’t.” It was more of an accusation than a question.
“Duh. He’s freaking beautiful, has a massive dick, and could toss me around like a ragdoll. What’s not to like?”
“Well, obviously, there’s that. But good golly, miss Polly. You’ve been with loads of hot dollies, and you’ve never gone back for seconds. Not since Nate—”
I ripped my hand from the dryer and held it before her face. “Stop right now.”
“No!” Luna snapped defiantly. “You are not a Spice Girl, and I refuse to stop, thank you very much. In fact, I will repeat myself. You. Like. Him.” She had leaned closer with every patronizing word, so I pressed my semi-dry index finger into her forehead and pushed her back.
“Did you forget to attach your cochlear this morning? I said, ‘duh,’ which means I agree with the premise. There was no need to bring my past into it. Now, can we please just leave it at that?”
“Only if you admit that there’s more to this than his hotness. There has to be. You’ve found a way to work him into your conversations on the daily. You … like … him.”
Fuck, I hated that she was right. I spent an hour or so with the guy and exchanged a smattering of texts. But there was … something.
“That’s a lie. I admit nothing.”
“Then I will never let this go, and I also won’t finish your nails. Try marking his back with those weak-as-piss naturals and see how you go.”
“Damn you to hell, Luna Watson. Why don’t you worry about your own love life and keep your nose out of mine?”
“Ha! You said love life! Called it! I choose to take that as an admission and now that I am victorious, I will finish.”
After an embarrassing happy dance, she snatched my hand off the chair and shoved it back under the table. “You’ll be able to peel the flesh off his bones by the time I’m done with you.”
It was weird how much that turned me on.
By four that afternoon, I was exhausted but overhyped. In bed but wide awake. As well as my nails, Luna had popped a color through my hair so that the darkest of dark brown was now black as night. Perfectly matching my soul. She then dried and styled it into loose waves that cascaded down my back, coming to rest at the very swell of my ass. Once home, I triedto sneak in a nap, and when sleep eluded me, I refused to acknowledge nerves or excitement over seeing my cowboy as the cause. Instead, I laid the blame squarely at Luna’s perfectly polished feet. How dare she call me out with baseless allegations of …like. Eww. I could hardly say it. It was so ... juvenile and gross.
Like.
I didn’tlikeanyone. Especially not some random cowboy. Luna was as close as I had to a bestie, and I could barely tolerate her at times. In my past, the only people I had ever reallylikedwere Evie and Nate and look where that got me.
It was still too early to sleep, so I snatched my Kindle from beneath my pillow and returned to the world of Rina Kent, where the line between good and evil was blurry at best and where the villain always got his girl because no one gave a shit about the golden hero.
“Plop. Plop. Honey, you need to get up.”
Pain shot through my neck and down my left arm as my eyelids fluttered open. “Thank god, I thought there was something wrong with you, too.” Waking to find the dark silhouette of my sister looming over me should probably have caused some alarm, but it didn’t. It pissed me off.
