Page 26 of Desperate Pucker
An angry feeling rips through me. “Your ex said you were big?”
She nods. “He was a figure skater too, so he was pretty fixated on weight.”
“I don’t care if he was the fittest human being on the planet. He had no business commenting on your weight or your body. No one does.”
For a second, she looks at me with an unrecognizable expression on her face.
“What would he say to you?” I know it’s not my business, but I’m too curious. What kind of a dipshit tells his girlfriend that she needs to watch her weight?
“He’d give me a hard time if I wanted dessert or if I wanted second servings of dinner. Or if I wanted to put milk in my coffee.”
I grit my teeth, pissed off.
“So not only is he a cheater, but he wants to police women’s bodies. Yeah, fuck that asshole.”
She makes a surprised laughing noise that has the corner of my mouth slanting up.
The bartender drops off all our drinks.
I slide her the Coke. “Try it.”
She rolls her eyes at me again, but she’s fighting a smile this time. When she takes a sip, her eyes go wide. Then she closes them and hums.
“Oh my god, that’s so good.”
“Told you.”
I swipe the glass of whiskey and Diet Coke and hand it back to the bartender along with some cash. “Could you get her a regular whiskey and Coke instead?”
She looks at me, a soft, surprised smile playing across her lips.
“Enjoy your drinks, princess.”
I walk back to the table, feeling weirdly happy.
After a minute, my phone buzzes with a text from my little sister.
Hey. I’m in trouble. My friends ditched me at a party and I don’t have a way to get home. Can you please come pick me up?
Panic rockets through me. I stand up and look at the guys. “I gotta go.”
I head out of the bar without saying more.
Chapter 11
Ryker
Ipull my SUV up in front of a frat house on the edge of the Hollis University campus, kill the engine, and hop out.
I head up the porch stairs and through the front door. Music blasts through the crowded house.
“Yo! Someone’s dad is here,” a drunk guy yells.
I push past him and walk up the stairs, ignoring the surprised stares from the college kids surrounding me.
At the top of the stairs, I turn the corner and see my little sister Anna sitting in an armchair, sleepily looking at her phone.
“Hey, Anna Banana.”
