Page 28 of Breaking Rules
True.I rolled my eyes. “You do nothing to wake up my jumanji.”
“What the fuck is that?”
I pointed to my crotch. “Some girls call their lady parts hoo-has or whatever. I call mine jumanji.”
He roared with laughter as he brushed off the leaves that had clung to his shirt. “That’s one for the books. I also can’t believe you told me that. You sure aren’t shy.”
I said what was on my mind and didn’t care what people thought. But suddenly I did care what he thought, and for that, my cheeks flushed. Mom had always said never let them see you sweat. Now it was my turn to laugh. Sweating was an everyday thing here in the South.
He turned. “Are you laughing at yourself?”
I shrugged. “I guess I am.”
He laughed harder. When he did, I did. Then the tension between us snapped. We strolled along the golf path, the freshly cut grass lingering in the air as the snakelike hiss of the sprinklers sang their tune.
“Why do you call your puss jumanji?” He tightened his lips, trying not to laugh.
“A friend and I had been talking about names that girls call their lady parts, and I came up with juji. Then she fired back with jumanji. So the name stuck. Why did your parents name you Train?” He had an odd name, and I could think of all sorts of innuendos about it that would make it fun to rib him.
The crack of a golf club hitting a ball echoed.
We weren’t in harm’s way of getting clobbered from a golf ball since we were beneath a cluster of trees, but we both checked behind us. The ball soared through the air and landed in the middle of the fairway.
Train shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “My paternal grandfather’s middle name was Train. His father was a conductor, and his wife thought the name would be unique. When I was born, my dad wanted to keep the name in the family.”
We passed beautifully landscaped backyards and two men putting on one of the holes. No sooner had we cleared a curve in the path than a familiar voice shouted Train’s name.
We both whipped our heads to the yard on our right. Nina jogged up, sporting a bikini and wet hair. The humid air suddenly got as thick as a brick.
A muscle ticked in Train’s jaw. It was clear he was fighting some inner demons. Elvira had said on the beach that Train would never take Nina back, but I wasn’t so sure.
She glared at me then set her confused attention on Train. “Are you dating Montana?”
“It’s none of your business,” he volleyed back.
One side of her nose twitched. She reminded me of a rabid dog about to attack her prey—that prey being me.
“He’s right,” I said. “It’s none of your business.” I couldn’t just stand there and let her think I was scum. Sure, I could’ve told her the truth. But I didn’t think she would believe me, and I didn’t like her.
“Train isn’t over me,” she said with a tone as sure as the grass was green.
I tilted my head. “You cheated on him. On what planet do you think he’ll take you back?” Okay, he could take her back, although that would make him a fool in my book. I believed once a cheater, always a cheater.
Nina’s orange lips split into a smile. “I know he will.”
Train rubbed the nape of his neck. “Montana’s right. I will never take you back.”
She knitted her perfectly shaped eyebrows at him. “Not even to take me to the debutante ball?”
Either the girl wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, or she really believed she could get Train back.
“You’re a piece of work,” Train said to Nina.
A little girl called to Nina.
Train tipped his head at the girl with bright-red hair. “Your sister wants you.”
Nina regarded me. “Train will never stay with you. You’re just a distraction.” Then she twirled on her bare foot and marched back to the pool.
