Raging Heart On (Lucas Brothers #2)(20)

"I don't think it's really any of your business," I growl, pissed off because he thinks he has the right to dictate to me.

"You're my best friend."

"Okay, fine. Did I tell you not to sleep with Lori Petrotski?"

"Who? What are you talking about?"

"The girl you dated my senior year in high school, remember?"

"Oh. Jesus, I forgot about her. She was following me around like a little lost puppy."

"More like a dog in heat," I correct him.

"Yeah, so I decided to throw her a bone," he recalls with a smirk.

"Exactly. I knew she wasn't your type. I knew she was way too clingy, but I didn't take it upon myself to warn you to stay away."

"God, she was. The girl had serious problems. She followed me to training camp that year. She was waiting for me in my dorm one night, did I tell you? Fuck, I still don't know how she managed it. I got in bed and there she was. Told me she was keeping the bed warm for me. Started talking about what we would do when we got out of school, like our lives were set in stone. We'd have a brick house, two kids, the works."

"See? So you had to learn for yourself. You kicked her out of bed and sent her on her way. I didn't get involved.”

"Well, not exactly. I gave her one more night to remember me by."

"God, I can't believe you."

"I'm joking, mostly. Anyway, that was years ago. I'm not that person anymore and that has nothing to do with the here and now."

"It has everything to do with it."

"Please tell me how Lori Petra-whatever has anything to do with the fact that you're planning on getting knocked up by a random stranger."

"Petrotski," I correct, getting more annoyed with him by the minute.

"Whatever."

"I'm pointing out that our friendship works because I stay out of your sex life and you stay out of mine."

"You don't have one."

"I'm trying to fix that! The point still is that you need to stay out of it."

"You are not fixing it by sleeping with someone you don't know. Especially without protection. If I have to carry you out of here over my shoulder, Buttercup, it's—”

"Yeah, I know. It’s not happening,” I mock, trying to imitate his voice. His big, dumb, deliciously deep and sexy voice. “I could hate you," I sigh. "If you must know, I've decided against that plan."

"Christ, thank God for small favors."

"I'm rolling my eyes at you yet again, White Hall. Anyway, you might have had a small point. I should worry about diseases and things."

"Damn straight you should."

"And I do. So I'm making a list," I inform him, my hands folded over the notebook on the table.

"A list?"

“Of potential baby daddies."

"A list?"

"You're repeating yourself."

"That's because I can't believe you're this crazy. I used to think you were so calm and shy. How the f*ck did I miss that you're Looney Tunes crazy?"

"If you're done insulting me for the night, you really should be on your way now."

"Let me see your list," he orders, and panic fills me. Shit. His name is on there. There's no way he's seeing my list.

"No way," I tell him, clutching my notebook closer to guard him from it.

"Let me see it, Kayla."

"I said no." As in no way, Jose. I've suffered enough embarrassment lately.

"Fine."

"Fine," I agree with a breath of relief.

I should have known it wouldn't be that easy because White reaches over and hones in on my stomach, just at the side, under my breast. It's the most ticklish spot on my body, which isn't easy because I'm pretty much ticklish all over. It doesn't take him long and I'm squealing like a little kid. I bring my hands up to try and pull his much larger one away and that's when I realize my mistake and White grabs the notebook with his free hand.

"Give that to me, you *!" I growl, trying to fight for it back, but White defends my attempts as if it was nothing, all the while opening the notebook that holds the damning list. I give up as I see it open. Fear and shock war with one another. My stomach sinks as I realize he's going to read it. I hold my head down and wonder how I can play this off.

Crap.





CHAPTER 14


WHITE




I know I'm being an *. I just can't stop myself. I have this deep-seated need to see who is on that damned list. When she told me she wasn't scoping the joint for someone to take home, it was like this huge weight had been lifted off of me. It soon came back and crushed me all over again when she told me her next harebrained scheme.

I open the notebook and the first name makes me want to shake her. Tommy. Fuck no. End of discussion. I don't know the next name but when I see man-boobs written in a big pink glitter square along with the words “Is he a he?” I'm pretty sure this guy is as f*cked up as her other choices. Another, no. Bobby Crenshaw? Does she not remember how miserable she was with that sad-sack? That'd be a big hell no.

The next name on the list causes my heart to lodge in my throat and my dick to push so hard against my jeans, it's painful. She wrote my name on this damn list, even after I was an * yesterday. Of course there’s a line through it, but I’m choosing to ignore that. Instead, I wonder. Obviously I'm having fantasies about my best friend that normally I'd steer one hundred and fifty percent clear of. This time, however, maybe it would be a good idea. I can work these feelings out of my system while giving Kayla what she wants. What could be the harm in that? It's like two friends helping each other out.