Or flat. I pause at her tits.
Did they get larger? Or am I just remembering them as smaller? Regardless, they now appear to be the perfect size for my large hands. Her nipples peak under my perusal, and I can’t stop the wicked grin from taking over my face.
She snaps her fingers in front of my nose. “Hey! Eyes up here, Wyatt.”
I move in to hug her. “Hey, Brie! Long time—”
She steps back and out of my reach, rolling her suitcase to the driver before climbing into the cab’s back seat. He motions for mine, pulling my attention from staring after her. Why the cold reception? And what the hell did I do to deserve it?
I hand him my bag and wait until I see him put both in the trunk, close it, and walk away before I crawl into the back seat after her. Habit of the trade as a security specialist.
“Care to try that again?” I ask as we head down the road toward Tropicana Ave.
“Try what again?” she asks, not looking at me.
“I don’t know who the fuck that was back there, but the Bristol Moore I know wouldn’t snub a family friend like that.” I don’t mention that she hurt my feelings, but I’m tempted to.
“Well, maybe you don’t know this Bristol Moore,” she says. Her voice isn’t any warmer.
“If you didn’t want to share a cab, you could have just said no.”
She scoffs.
“Well, if that’s not it, then what? Are you mad at me? How could I have done something in the fifteen seconds we saw each other in the cab line to piss you off.”
“Who says you did anything? Maybe I just don’t like you,” she says.
I laugh. “Am I being punked right now? Is Blake behind this? What’s going on?” I look around as though I’m going to find hidden cameras somewhere in the cab. Mostly because I can’t think of another reason why Bristol is being such a…bitch.
Yeah, I said it. Er, thought it.
“Is the concept of not being liked so foreign to you, Wyatt? It must be a prank if a woman doesn’t find you irresistible?”
“No. I mean, maybe. Actually, yes.”
“Hmph.”
“Okay, well, whatever I did, I’m sorry.”
“You didn’tdoanything,” Bristol says. “Literally. You did nothing.”
“Oka-a-a-y.” I draw the word out to show I’m confused and don’t agree, despite not understanding it. The driver turns onto Las Vegas Boulevard. Which means we’re almost there.
She pulls her phone from her purse and turns away from me, her fingers typing furiously on the screen.
So, I decide to do the same.
ME: Does your sister hate me or something?
BLAKE: What brought that up?
BLAKE: One sec.
I wait. Three dots are coming and going until he finally sends something.
BLAKE: She might hate you, yeah.
ME: Why? WTH did I do?
