“I didn’t know I’d be here—it came up last minute. Why didn’t you at least tell me Jen was coming tonight? Jesus, Reed. Help a brother out.”
“I didn’t even know Jen was coming—I didn’t even knowIsabelwas coming. She said she’dtry,and that’s the last I heard.” He lowers his voice to barely above a whisper. “And I sure as fuck didn’t know she’d bringJen, man.” Reed glances furtively at Kat.
“Fuck,” I say. “Not good, man.”
“It’s your own damned fault,” Reed says. “Play with crazy, you’re gonna get crazy-burned.”
I turn to Kat, ready to apologize or assure her or laugh with her—hell if I know where her head is at right now—and the expression on her face makes it clear she’s pissed (though about what, I’m not sure).
“Kat, listen,” I begin. “I—”
There’s a loud splashing noise right behind me. Jesus, no. I wheel around, hoping my gut is wrong. But it’s not wrong, unfortunately—Jen just jumped into the pool in her bra and underpants, giggling and squealing like she’s auditioning forGirls Gone Wild.
I grunt in frustration and lunge over to Kat. “Kat, I’m not evenremotelyinterested in her. I told you that—”
“Josh!” Jen says wading up to me, her jaw-dropping tits on bodacious display in her see-through electric-blue bra. “Isabel didn’t tell me you were coming to see RCR, too.Awesome.” She puts her hand on my arm and leans into me like she’s gonna kiss me.
I jerk my arm and lurch back from her violently, toward Kat.
“Jen, I’m here with someone.” I motion to Kat. “I’m on a date.”
Jen’s face instantly turns to ice. “Oh.” She clenches her jaw. She blatantly looks Kat up and down. “So are you gonna introduce me to yourdate? Unless, of course, you don’t know her name?”
I feel physically sick. “No need to be—”
“Actually, he doesn’t know my name,” Kat spits at Jen. “He hasn’t asked me for it and I haven’t supplied it, despite the fact that we were just about to fuck in this pool.” She glares at me sideways and then flashes a sweet smile at Jen. “I’m Kat.” She puts out her hand.
Jen takes Kat’s hand like she’s picking up trash from the side of the road. “Jen.” Jen looks Kat up and down again. “A Vegas girl, I presume?” Her nostrils flare. “When in Rome, I guess, huh, Josh? Charming.”
Kat turns her demonic eyes on me, full-force. “Oh, so your name isJosh, is it? Did I hear that right? Or did she call youJess?”
I don’t reply. Well, not with my vocal chords. My dick certainly seems to be replying, loud and clear. Yeah, my dick’s always had a thing for crazy, it’s true—not to mention a perfect pair of tits. Not to mentiontwoperfect pairs of tits, all of them glistening wet and covered in barely-there see-through bras.
Kat stares Jen down, smiling the whole time. “You know what, Jen? I think you just saved me from doing something reallydumb.” She’s spitting nails through that beauty-queen smile of hers. “This guy here—Josh or Jess, whatever his name is—won’t stop talking about some woman he banged in New York last week.”
Jen’s face lights up. What the fuck is Kat doing to me right now? Is she clinically insane?
“Yeah, he keeps going on and on about how this New York girl was a horrible fuck, that the whole thing was totally meaningless to him, how he was so fucking shitfaced drunk he doesn’t even remember it—’oh, it was such ahugemistake, blah, blah, blah—she was such a fucking airhead’—I mean, how chicken-shit is that? Why the hell did he bang that poor girl if she was such a horror show? What a fucking douche.”
Jen’s brief elation from a moment ago is long gone. Now she looks like she was just whacked across the face with a two-by-four.
This is one of the most uncomfortable moments of my life. Jen looks like she’s gonna cry—which makes me feel like the biggest prick on the planet—and Kat, the demon-queen herself, is glaring at me like she’s readying her blowtorch, a Hershey bar, some graham crackers, and a very sharp knife.
“And here I was stupidly about to give the guy more of the same,” Kat continues, on a roll. “Just some meaningless, shitfaced sex he won’t even remember tomorrow. Ha! Well, fuck that shit.”
Without warning, Kat heaves herself out of the pool and glowers at Jen from the ledge, her incredible body dripping wet and on full, glorious display.
“He’s all yours, Jen. Maybe you’ll have more luck than the poor girl he burned through in New York last week—whoever the hell she was.” She flashes me a rage-filled smile. “Bye-bye, Jess. Or Josh. Whatever your name is. Have fun in Vegas, asshole—when in Rome.” With that, she struts over to the nearby lounge chair, grabs her sparkling dress, and waltzes toward the open French doors leading back into the suite.
A man has never leaped out of a swimming pool so fucking fast in his entire life.
“Kat,” I yell after her. “Wait.”
But she doesn’t wait. Hell no, she doesn’t, because she’s a goddamned terrorist.
She marches straight through the French doors, into the suite,and toward the front doors, her incredible ass-cheeks shuddering with each ground-quaking march of her long, toned legs. On her way to the front door, she makes a pit stop at C-Bomb sitting on the couch. She bends over and whispers something to him, her tits falling out of her bra and into his face as she does. I’m just about to leap across the room and tackle him when he nods and hands her his drink—which looks to be straight whiskey or Scotch. She throws the whole drink back in one fluid motion and hands the empty glass back to him. “Thanks, son, I owe you one,” she says, patting him on the head.
“Any time,” he says, smirking and looking right at her chest.
