Page 29 of What Are The Odds?
“It was one time,” Tripp snapped back.
“Or Will thinks he’s a ten but he’s more like a 7.5.”
Will flipped Ryan off.
Ryan turned his phone on me. “Levi’s a ten but he thinks he can fix anything that breaks.”
“And he has commitment issues,” Will added.
“And he always brings home screamers that keep me awake,” Tripp finished.
Grace chuckled. “I don’t think the ability to get a girl to scream is a red flag.”
I raised my eyebrows at Grace.
“Alright Hughesy,” Tripp drawled. “Don’t act like you don’t have red flags, too.”
Grace crossed her arms over her chest. “Go on. Name one.”
“You’re a music snob,” I said simply.
She picked up her drink. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
We ended up doing the stupid dance. The red flags Ryan was thinking of were absolutely outrageous. I didn’t embarrass easily, but that didn’t mean I wanted lots of people knowing the scar on my lower back was from falling from a two-storey window when the girl whose legs I’d had my head between had received a message from her housemate saying her boyfriend had just arrived. Did I care finding out she had a boyfriend? No. Did I care I’d left one of my favourite hoodies there? Shit yeah. I’d lost too many good hoodies to girls who didn’t deserve to wear them. While we learnt the dance, Grace patiently sat cross-legged on the lounge, pointing out all the things we were doing wrong.
“Why am I the only one without a shirt?” Tripp asked.
“Because you weren’t wearing one when we started, idiot,” Will seethed.
“Maybe you should all take them off,” Grace chirped in. “Extra views, right?”
I narrowed my eyes at her. Of course Ryan and Tripp jumped at the idea. During the final filming, Tripp went the wrong way. He knocked into Ryan who ended up kicking Will in the nuts. It was tragic, but I knew Ryan would post it anyway. These videos weren’t popular because they were good. Heck, I didn’t know why they were popular. All I knew is we’d done countless stupid shit for Ryan. At home. At the barn. Even at parties.
“Do I look hot, Hughesy?” Tripp asked.
She shrugged, nonchalantly. “I think Will is rocking the no-shirt best.”
“No way,” Tripp, Ryan and I said at the same time.
Will snickered. “Not bad for a 7.5.”
Will’s entire right arm and part of his right peck were covered in tattoos. There was a collection of tattoos on his left arm too. Not a full sleeve, but enough that you noticed them. Tripp snatched the phone from Grace’s hand. He huddled around it with Ryan and Will, replaying the video with the song I was sick of hearing.
“You good, Hughesy?” I asked, falling onto the couch and throwing my arm over her shoulder.
She smiled. “I like being around you and your friends. You remind me of my brothers.”
“Yeah? Why don’t you stay for dinner then?”
16. Just as friends
Grace.
“No way,” Ryan shouted, shaking his head vigorously. “Bad sex every day for the rest of your life is better than mind-blowing sex one day a year.”
“I’m going to have to back Ryan here,” Will chimed in. “Coming’s coming, right? 365 average orgasms are better than one mind blowing one.”
“You both have rocks in your head,” Tripp argued. “Mind blowing ismind blowing.Wanna chime in, Cap?”
