Before & After - Nazarea Andrews Page 0,3
whole BFF bullshit—not like girls. It’s kinda cute to see a couple of dudes who are good friends.”
There’s a little part of me that wants to point out that we aren’t BFFs. That we were forced together out of necessity and kept together to survive. But I don’t. That’s a little heavy for now, and I don’t particularly want her thinking about my best friend at the moment anyway.
“So what are you doing here?” I ask, leaning forward and tapping the open laptop. “Most girls like you find a library to study in.”
Her eyes narrow a little, and I get the feeling I’m wandering into dangerous territory. “Girls like me?”
Her tone is tight and full of warning, but I ignore it, offering her a lazy grin. “Pretty. Smart. Too damn good to be in this shithole.”
Her lips twitch and I lean forward, into her space a little, and whisper, “You’ve been here for months, Red. Distracting and out of place. So tell me. Why the hell do you keep coming back?”
Her eyes are wide and her breath is coming in short, sharp bursts and if I lean forward another few inches, I could taste the lips I’ve spent months fixating on.
“I like the music,” she murmurs, and I swallow my groan, because fuck if that isn’t the most perfect answer in the world.
“And the computer?”
A flush flares up her cheeks again and she ducks away. I lean back, giving her room as I take a pull on my beer. She’s fiddling with the swizzle stick that came in her drink.
“I write sometimes. And the music is a greatinspiration.”
I was wrong. She could say something more perfect. I grin at her and say, “You might just be perfect.”
“Might?”
I hesitate and then shrug. “Need a little longer to figure that out, Red.”
Her eyes are still amused but a wary as she watches me, a finger circling the rim of her glass, catching the drop of whiskey from her last sip. She lifts it and licks the Jack away, and I swallow hard, chasing my groan away with a cough. “Go out with me,” I say, suddenly.
“I don’t date,” she says. She leans back and I want to drag her back to the edge of her seat, force her back into the easy warmth we were sharing even as she slams walls up between us.
“Why not?” I ask.
“Because I’m busy and because boys are idiots and because school—I don’t need to be distracted.”
“You aren’t too busy to drop by and listen to me play every week for three months. And I’m not a fucking boy,” I says the last bit tighter and fiercer.
Her breath catches a little in her throat as she licks her lips. “Maybe I’m here for Scotty.”
For the first time in almost two decades, I want to punch my best friend. Because fuck if he’s going to get this girl too, after all the time I’ve spent watching her. I’ve never cared who Scott takes to bed. Usually we take them together—women are no different than any other thing in our world that we share. But the thought of him touching her, or her on her knees in front of him, makes me irrationally angry.
“Rike,” a sweet, low voice purrs behind me, and I blink free of my thoughts to twist and meet the gaze of the girl behind me. She’s all smooth curves and long blonde hair and legs for fucking days.
She went home with us a few week ago, and I knew even as she was in bed with us that it was going to be a problem.
“Scotty is flying solo,” I say, turning back to Red. I can feel the sorority girl at my back, the indignant fury from her. Red is watching her with curious eyes, gaze skirting between the two of us. I ignore the huffy girl behind me and say, “You aren’t. If you were, you wouldn’t be talking to me.”
Her eyes flicker with reserved amusement, and I lean forward, and whisper, “Please. Save me from the sorority.”
Her lips curve into a slow smile, something mischievous and mysterious in the twist of her lips, and I want to see that smile every day. I want to know why it’s different, and what makes it different from the smile she would give me half asleep and naked in my bed.
I blink, shake the thought. Focus on now.
God, she’s fucking with my head, hard.
“Go find a new toy, Lindsay. This one is mine tonight.”
That’s what her