Page 47 of Last on the List
I lock eyes with my best friend, whose words are never given lightly. Josh is a zero-bullshit kind of person and does not shy away from conflict. If he thinks someone is phony, he’ll say it.
So the fact that he doesn’t think it’s fucked up of me to pursue the woman taking care of my kid for the summer gives me the glimmer of hope that I’ve been denying myself for the past twenty-four hours. Hell, maybe even the past three weeks.
Cassandra Barlow has consumed all my thoughts with her lush curves, her tropical scent, and her insane ability to make even the most mundane tasks interesting. Maybe if I fuck her, I can get past this ache in my body and feel like myself again.
Dean laughs as he stares at his phone. “Got it.”
“Got what?” I ask, my brows furrowing.
He turns his screen to show me an Instagram story of Cassandra and Dakota taking a shot at the bar. There are two dudes with them, and they all laugh as Cassandra begins to gag and whack the tall guy with long brown hair tied up in a bun for forcing her to take the shot. I narrow my eyes to look a little closer and recognize the place they’re at.
“That’s some stealthy fucking internet trolling, my dude,” Calder says, bowing his head to Dean like he’s bestowing him with some great honor.
“All in a day’s work.” Dean adjusts his glasses and turns to me. “Now the only question is, what will you do with this information?”
I look around the table at everyone staring expectantly back at me. I have never been inspired to stalk a woman before. In fact, I rarely even have to try to get the women I’m interested in. Going to the bar she’s at would be seriously fucking insane. But perhaps Cassandra’s weird brings out my weird.
I shove my chips into the middle of the table. “Fuck it. I’m all in.”
Booze makes Jeff funnier, which is highly important because Dakota’s lips have been permanently locked with Randal’s for most of the night. Honestly, it’s like we’re back in high school again. If they’re not making out, they’re whispering into each other’s ears and giggling like a couple of school children. It’s highly annoying.
But I’m not going to begrudge her making a connection with the guy. I’m happy for her. And I’m happy to be out with a group and enjoying life outside of Max Fletcher’s bubble.
Sure, Jeff doesn’t give me that warm, gooey sensation whenever he looks at me. But I’m having a nice time with him, and that should count for something.
This is exactly what I needed to get my mind off Max. I just had to put myself out there and remind myself I am capable of flirting and finding a summer fling without crazy mind games. This is the kind of shit you do on a gap year!
“Jeff, I have to ask you a strange question,” I blurt out, taking a sip of my drink.
“I love your strange questions,” he muses and sips his IPA beer.
I lean forward and run my finger along his brow line, my eyes marveling at how perfectly shaped they are. With a giggle, I ask, “Are your eyebrows natural, or do you use a serum because I’ve never seen such full eyebrows in my entire life.”
His shoulders shake, and he nearly falls off the stool with a bizarre silent laugh. He presses a hand to his chest, and his voice is high-pitched when he cries, “What the fuck is a serum?”
“Like something that makes eyebrows grow thicker!” I reply, laughing hysterically at his comedic reaction.
His smiling eyes widen. “People actually want big eyebrows?”
My nose wrinkles as I chuckle. “Yes. Seriously, if you’re using a product, fess up because you have the most stunning brows I’ve ever seen on a man or a woman!”
He props his elbow on the bar and covers his face, still in stitches over the topic of our conversation. He’s obviously drunk, but it’s cute, and I live to amuse.
He wipes some errant tears out of his eyes and sighs loudly. “You are one of a kind, Cozy Barlow.”
“I’ve been getting that a lot these days,” I murmur as Max’s annoyingly handsome face invades my thoughts.
A clammy hand lands on my bare leg, and I look over to see Jeff no longer smiling. In fact, his face has grown super serious. His eyes are hooded and locked on my lips. “I’m so glad this is finally happening, Cozy.”
“What do you mean?” I try to laugh to lighten the mood.
He hiccups and glances down at my chest. “You and me. A redo.”
“A re-what?” My back straightens with his forced proximity.
“I was so awkward in high school. So inexperienced.” He closes his eyes and shakes off the obvious embarrassment before resuming really intense eye contact. “You would have been my first, you know.”
My head jerks at his sharp vibe change. I look over my shoulder to see Dakota walking toward the bathroom while Randal is scrolling on his phone. Guess I’m stuck here alone with a drunk Jeff who wants to have a walk down memory lane. Jesus. I need to get control of this conversation.
