What the hell is wrong with me?
This is Kayla I'm thinking about. My Kayla. My best friend. My buddy. The woman who has my brother on her list as a potential sperm donor. Son of a bitch.
"Green?"
"What? Oh! Yeah, I think it might work. He's obviously the best choice."
The best choice?
"I don't see that," I tell her. "I don't see that at all," I growl, flagging down a passing waitress.
"What are you doing?" she asks, watching me.
"Ordering a drink," I tell her, even if it's not necessary since the waitress comes over and I order a whiskey neat.
"I'll have one too!" Kayla chimes in, and I look back at her. "What? If you can have a drink, I can too. Especially since you already made sure I wasn't about to have baby making sex tonight."
"I don't think you need to drink. A person in your shape shouldn't be drinking."
"My shape?" she asks.
"Bat-shit crazy," I growl after a minute. Before she can say anything in response, the waitress comes back and puts our drinks down. "I'll have another one when you get time," I tell her.
I down the drink in one long, large gulp. It burns as it goes down, but nothing compared to the fire I already have in my gut thinking about Kayla in bed with my own fucking brother. The brother that she was in love with years and years ago.
"White?"
"I thought you didn't think of Green like that anymore?"
"Like what?"
"You know. Why the fuck is my brother on your list of sperm donors, Kayla?"
"Will you keep your voice down??" she hisses, but I've been an ass since I walked through the fucking door and I might as well keep it up.
"Why? You're planning on sleeping with my brother to harvest his sperm. Why should you be ashamed if everyone hears it?" I growl. The waitress puts down my other drink, her eyes large. Kayla grabs her notebook. I let her; it doesn't fucking matter anymore. She stands up and I look at her. "Where are you going?"
"I'm not staying here and letting you insult me. I've had enough."
"You put my brother on your damned list."
"So? He's a good choice. Shouldn't you be more concerned that your name is on the list?" she asks, her cheeks heated. She has a point, but then she doesn't know the fantasies she's been starring in lately. I'm not about to tell her, especially now that I know I'm interchangeable in her mind with my own fucking brother.
"I get it, Buttercup. Any Lucas brother will do, right? Why not go for Cyan? He's the baby brother. He’s younger. His swimmers are probably more potent. Sit down, will you? You're taking my attention from my drink."
"Ohhh… Cyan! I didn't think about him. Do you think he'd be willing?"
Be willing?
"Christ on a merry-go-round," I mutter, kicking myself for giving her yet another Lucas brother to daydream about. "Cyan's off-limits!"
"Off-limits? Why?"
"He's in love with the town librarian."
"What? No way! Alice? How did I not know that?"
"Nobody knows it. Alice is afraid of her own shadow. If she knew a horn dog like my brother was looking at her, she'd die of a heart attack."
"He needs to tell her. They would be such a cute couple."
"No. They wouldn't."
"What? Of course they would! What are you talking about?"
"You know my brother. Cyan has certain tastes. There's no way Alice, as quiet, shy, and prissy as she is, could ever live up to that."
"Tastes?"
"He goes to sex bars."
"Sex bars? What's that?"
"Underground sex clubs. He likes watching and being watched."
"Watching and being… Oh. My. God," she exhales, her face heating up so bright that it could glow in the dark. “Alice would never do that."
"And that's why Cyan hasn't made his move."
"That's kind of sad. It also crosses Cyan off my list. I have enough trouble revealing my body to one man, let alone a whole roomful."
"You've got a beautiful body," I tell her without thinking as I finish off my second drink.
"Oh. Uh, thank you."
"I'm serious, Buttercup," I tell her as the waitress puts down another drink. I'm feeling a little loose, so this should probably be my last real drink. No sense in pushing myself over the edge. Kayla is giving me enough headaches; I don't need to give myself a hangover too. "You've got a banging body."
"Maybe you should stop drinking now," she cautions.
"I'm not drunk, not even close. Since when did you get hung up about sex? It's something we should be able to talk freely about."
"I'm not hung up about sex. It just feels strange to talk about sex… with you."