Playing the Player(6)



He snapped a wet towel at me. “So tell me about the other nanny. Does she drool? Have fangs? Three eyes?”

I might as well get this over with. “It’s Trina. You know, from school.”

“Bird Brain?” He smirked. “Dude. You’re in for a crazy summer.”

“Tell me about it.”

We’d called Trina “Bird Brain” after she went on some Save the Geese rampage. It was the first of many rampages for her. If there was an underdog cause, she led the charge, always forcing boycott fliers on everyone, running fundraisers and bake sales.

“At least she’s sort of cute,” Alex said. “Like a little fairy.” He snickered. “Not my kind of fairy. More like Tinker Bell.”

I gaped at him. Was he high?

“She is,” he insisted. “She’s got this waifish, dainty elegance thing going on.”

“You’re so gay.”

“No shit, Sherlock. I’m also a visual person, and some people are more interesting to look at than others. Trina’s interesting. Not like all the Barbie clones you go for.”

“I know what I like.” I always had. Blonde. Tall. Tanned. I definitely had a type and Trina wasn’t it.

It wasn’t just her appearance. She was wound so tight it would take Superman to unwind her. Not to mention that crazy binder that tracked her whole life. It made me want to hurl just thinking about it.

“So when do you two start your nanny dates?” Alex slurped from his soda.

“Tomorrow.” I groaned. “She’s already emailed me a schedule for the day. And texted me to make sure I got it.”

Alex stretched his arms above his head. “This is going to be such an entertaining summer. I think I’ll send Trina a thank-you card. Maybe flowers.”

“Shut up,” I growled. Maybe after a few days of hanging out with me, Trina would chill out. Alex said my aura relaxed people. I didn’t buy a lot of his New Age crapola, but I knew what he meant.

Alex flicked his fingers over his cell screen and groaned. “Check it out.” He handed me his phone. “Tiffany posted a rant about Derek dumping her.”

I scanned the screen. Lots of all-caps screaming and many, many exclamation points. “Sounds like Tiff got burned.”

He shrugged. “Haven’t we all?”

I stretched out my legs. “Not really, no.” Just the one time.

Alex sighed next to me. “Whatever.”

“I don’t do breakups, because I just do hookups. You should try it. Save you all that emo damage.”

He chucked a piece of soda ice at me. “You only think there’s no damage. I’m the one they come crying to after you dump them.”

I stared at him, surprised. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” He took off his shades and glared at me. “They all say they’re not going to fall for you, that they know what they’re getting into. But you spin your Slade spell and they fall in love. Then you lose interest and break their hearts. Honestly dude, it’s getting old.”

I gaped at him. “Are you for real?”

He nodded. “I am. How ’bout you keep it in your pants this summer? Or—here’s a new concept—try to actually have a relationship that lasts longer than a week.”

Anger flared in my chest. “What is up with you, dude?”

He wouldn’t look at me. Alex had been my best friend since kindergarten. I didn’t get why he was judging me all of a sudden.

“Look,” he finally said, turning his gaze to me. “I know when Kristen dumped you, your heart was totally broken. You were a wreck. But dude, you really need to mellow out the whole player thing.”

I stared at my feet, unable to think of a reply.

“Seriously Slade. Have you ever considered dating someone long enough to have a real relationship? Do you even see these girls as real people?”

That pissed me off. “Of course I do. Look, the girls I hang out with are in it for the same reasons as me. None of them are looking for a fairy-tale romance, or whatever.”

Alex snorted. “Right.”

I clenched my fists, adrenaline shooting through me. “What the hell, dude? Why are you giving me crap?”

He narrowed his eyes, but didn’t reply. I jumped up and dove into the pool, staying underwater for as long as I could. Lungs burning, I broke the surface. Alex reclined on his lounge chair, flipping through a magazine like nothing was wrong.

I swam toward the other end of the pool, kicking furiously, as if that could push away Alex’s words.

I was not a man whore. Did girls like me? Yes. Did I take what was offered to me? Yes. Did I ever turn them away, like if I thought they weren’t in it just for fun? Okay, so maybe that was more of a gray area. But I liked all of them. I did. When I was with them, I was with them.

And when I wasn’t, well…I just wasn’t.

A sleek, tanned body cannonballed next to me, showering me with water and pissing me off. I turned to the source and saw Alex, grinning.

“Take it back,” I demanded.

“What?”

“You called me a man whore.”

He looked surprised, then he laughed. “No I didn’t. But I wish I had. How ’bout I just call you bro-ho for short? Since you’re hardly a man.”

Lisa Brown Roberts's Books