As I watch him dance, I have to admit he’s sexy as sin. He’s donning that killer smile, and I’m pretty sure all the girls in the room are swooning right now.
Watching him makes me wonder what would’ve happened if I’d gone out with him when he asked last fall instead of Ezra.
I sigh. If only my dad loved Billy the way he loves Ezra. While everyone thinks Ezra is the good guy, Billy’s the bad boy with a chip on his shoulder.
Jim Jankowitz—Jinxy to his crew—sidles up to me and lifts me in a hug. “Foxy Roxy!”
I hoard the nickname for later. For when I don’t fit in my clothes anymore and my feet are swollen. For when I’m depressed that I can’t cheer anymore. For the nights I have to stay home with the baby instead of partying with my friends. “Hey, Jinxy. Is there a theme tonight?”
“Just some karaoke. Billy’s warming everyone up first.”
I can see that.
Billy’s snug black t-shirt hugs his broad shoulders and chest as he moves. I’m getting hot, and I’m not sure if it’s because the room is warm or because Billy’s up there looking so damn handsome.
When the music ends, Billy grabs the mic. “Who wants to sing with me? Let’s kick off karaoke night with something retro.”
I’m debating whether I should join him when Vicky Mitchell, Billy’s former friend with benefits, hops on the stage. They hug and the first notes of “Summer Loving” fromGreaseblare from the stereo.
Vicky’s gorgeous. A bottle blonde with long legs, a modelesque figure, and blindingly white teeth. Basically what you picture when you think of what kind of woman a guy like Billy would be into.
In a nutshell, the opposite of me.
I’m short and muscular. I have boobs thanks to genetics and a decent ass from gymnastics and cheer, but no one would confuse me for a leggy blonde. My hair is coffee brown and frizzes out like I’ve been plugged into an electric socket on humid days.
Don’t get me wrong. I love my body and the things I can get it to do. I kick ass in cheerleading. I’m the girl who climbs to the top of the pyramid and flips to the ground. I’m balls-out like that.
I’m just not Vicky.
Watching her dance with Billy while they pretend to be a couple as they act out the lyrics makes my skin itch. She’s flipping her hair and shaking her ass at him, and he’s crooning and flirting back like he’s Danny who’s hot for Sandy.
Billy says they’re over. That they were fun for a while, but he’s not into Vicky like that anymore. Judging by how good theysound together and their off-the-charts chemistry, that might not be the case anymore.
My stomach twists uncomfortably.
I’d rather not witness Billy break his dry spell tonight, so I turn and head back out the door.
He’s still a player,a little voice in my head whispers.
This is the reason I didn’t go out with Billy in the first place.
And why I never will.
I’ve had my fill of players for a lifetime.
4
BILLY
Areyou sure you’re okay?
When Roxy doesn’t respond to my text, I squint harder at my phone, like glaring at it will make her talk to me. Jinxy said he saw her at the party last night, but what the fuck? If she came to our house, why did she leave without saying hi first?
She does this. She clams up when she’s upset.
I almost stopped by her apartment this morning to check on her, but then I remembered who I’m dealing with. Roxanne Santos does shit on her timeline. She’ll talk to me when she’s ready.
This woman is stubborn. It’s one of the things I like about her. It also drives me batshit crazy.
