Unbeautifully (Undeniable, #2)(13)

Wat up, Danny girl?

Hey, Ripper.

That’s it, that’s all; no flirting, no overly long chats, and then suddenly we’d had sex and now what?

God, was I supposed to talk to him? And with Nikki here, his once-in-a-while girlfriend, hanging all over him, how could I? Suddenly, I couldn’t understand what Ripper had ever seen in her. Why he’d wasted years being with a club whore. She was fake and trashy and wore horrible clothing that did nothing but exacerbate how trashy she really was. And just like that, I suddenly hated a woman I’d never given half a thought to before.

Oh god, I was so uncomfortable, feeling oddly embarrassed and exposed and wishing I were anywhere but at the club and Ripper would stop stare-glaring at me.

Stupidly, I chanced a glance, and of course he was staring at me. Or glaring. I turned away and tried to concentrate on the conversation happening around me.

“Tegen,” Dorothy said, sliding an arm over her daughter’s shoulders and pulling her close. “Tell everyone your news.”

Dorothy’s daughter was a hot mess. Almost sixteen years old and she still hadn’t grown out of her middle school awkwardness. She’d inherited Dorothy’s flaming red hair but hers had more of an orangey tint to it. Whereas Dorothy’s was thick and long with soft waves, Tegen’s was just plain frizzy and usually sticking out all over the place. Her green, almond-shaped eyes were always hidden by a pair of thick black frames, on her teeth were a full set of braces that for some reason she’d decided looked good with bright orange rubber bands. And her clothing…

Despite Dorothy’s best efforts, Tegen refused to dress like a girl. Not that the tomboy look couldn’t be sexy, it was. On women like Eva. Tegen looked like an awkward little girl swimming in ugly clothing two sizes too big for her.

“Tegen?”

Tegen didn’t answer, in fact she hadn’t even heard her mother. She was too busy staring across the lawn at…

I followed her line of sight. Cage.

I would have laughed if I didn’t feel so sick to my stomach. When she wasn’t sitting in a dark corner listening to Dashboard Confessional, she could be found staring at my brother.

It wasn’t any secret Tegen had a serious crush on Cage; she’d never hidden it and in my opinion, her following him around like a sad little puppy dog all the time was just sad. But more so embarrassing. For me.

“Baby?” Dorothy gave her a shake.

Tegen glanced up. “What?”

“Your news,” Dorothy repeated. “Tell everyone.”

Tegen’s cheeks turned pink. “Mom,” she muttered. “Really? It’s not that important.”

Dorothy gaped at her. “Your story was published in a national newspaper and it’s not important?”

Eva tugged on Tegen’s hair and grinned. “That’s so awesome, baby. I’m proud of you.”

Rolling her eyes, Tegen shrugged. “It was just some stupid contest,” she said and went back to not-so-secretly eyeing my brother. Dorothy and Eva continued their conversation and I went back to my cold sweat, because Ripper was still stare-glaring at me.

? ? ?

“Baby,” Nikki cooed, running her hand up Ripper’s thigh. “What is wrong with you?”

What was wrong with him? He was still waiting to die, that’s what was wrong with him.

Motherf*ck, he was a mess. He hadn’t slept in almost a week, unless you counted passing out cold from alcohol poisoning.

Goddamn, what had she said to him?

Ripper, you’re still beautiful. So you’ve got some scars. So what?

She’d f*cked him, both literally and figuratively. He’d been done for the moment she’d called him beautiful.

Jesus, he was only human.

With twitching hands, Ripper grabbed his pack of smokes off the picnic table in front of him, shook one out and, as he brought it to his mouth, turned his gaze across the lawn.

What the f*ck was her game?

She hated him. She had to. She wanted him to die.

But why would she hate him? He’d never done shit to her. He’d barely had anything to do with her.

Until now.

She hadn’t told on him either.

But why would she? She’d been wholeheartedly into it, if memory served.

Ripper closed his eyes and saw Danny splashing naked in the lake, the water only reaching her waist, her long blonde hair wet and plastered to her body, beads of water clinging to her eyelashes, lips, and breasts.

“Oh my god.” She laughed. “I’m so drunk!”

Yeah, and he had a hard-on from hell that was making it hard to think about anything but grabbing her, throwing her down, and f*cking the shit out of her.

“What’s wrong, Mr. Grumpy?” She giggled, slinging her arms around his neck, pressing her tits up against his abdomen and her stomach into his erection. He held his breath, kept his hands fisted at his sides. He wasn’t going to touch her. He was not going to touch her…

“Ripper?”

He glanced down and found her peeking up at him through wet eyelashes. Jesus.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for dancing with me,” she said softly, almost shyly. “And for not taking me home.”

“Yeah,” he said tightly. “Ain’t no big deal.”

Her hand slid from his neck to his chest and he closed his eyes as she traced one of the many scars there. “It was to me,” she murmured.