Unbeautifully (Undeniable, #2)(19)

“You’re both sluts!” I yelled. “And traitors!”

“Oh please, Danny, you can’t get mad. Your brother is the hottest piece of ass in this Podunk town.”

“No! He’s a whore and a jackass and I’m convinced he might be somewhat brain-dead, but he is most definitely not hot!”

“Sorry, Danny,” Ellie said dryly. “He really is.”

I gaped at both of them. “Do you realize what you’ve done? You’ve ruined our friendship! You cannot be friends with someone while you’re sleeping with their brother!”

Anabeth waved me off and went back to painting her toenails. “Please, Danny. You know Cage never f*cks anyone twice.”

“No, I did not know that, and do you know why I didn’t know that? Because he is my brother!”

“Well, now you know,” Ellie said, turning back to her book. “So, calm down.”

I dropped to the floor with a loud thump and buried my face in my hands. “Oh my god,” I muttered. “I hate my life.”

“This is why you don’t have a boyfriend,” Anabeth said pointedly. “You’re so dramatic.”

? ? ?

Clutching a fresh bottle of tequila, Ripper poked his head into the hallway, looked right, then left. The coast clear of Deuce or Danny, he wandered around the empty club before deciding on the kitchen, where he found Dorothy bent over the sink, washing dishes, and Hawk seated at the head of the long wooden table, nursing a beer.

Hawk lifted his chin. “Wat up.”

“Nothin’,” he muttered, sliding into the chair beside him.

Dorothy glanced over her shoulder and frowned. “You want some coffee?”

He glared at her. “Do I f*ckin’ look like I want coffee?” he said, waving his bottle in the air.

With an exaggerated eye roll tossed his way, she went back to the dishes.

Whatever. She could think he was a drunk. He didn’t give a f*ck.

“I’m f*ckin’ bored,” Dirty announced as he walked into the kitchen. “Anyone else goin’ crazy?”

Holding up two fingers, Ripper nodded. “Yeah.”

Grabbing the chair across from him, Dirty turned it around and straddled it. “I’ve gone a month without *. I got cum backed up straight to my f*ckin’ brain.”

Dorothy turned toward Dirty, looking repulsed. “Why?” she asked. “Why must you be so disgusting?”

Dirty ignored her. “I need this shit sucked or f*cked before my head explodes.”

Hawk started laughing and Dirty shot him a look.

“Naw, dude, for real. This shit keeps up, my dick is gonna shrivel up and die.”

Not Ripper. He was having the opposite problem. His dick was going to explode. Between what had gone down at the lake still wreaking havoc on his thoughts, playing on f*cking repeat, and now that bikini bullshit yesterday. Goddamn Danny.

“Maybe you should shower?” Dorothy suggested. “Women like that sort of thing.”

Dirty grinned at her. “What’s wrong, D? You don’t like me in my natural state?”

Dirty’s “natural state” was a nasty f*cking mess. The dude’s long brown hair was as greasy as f*ck, his hands and clothes were stained black from motor oil, his fingernails were long and yellowed, caked with dirt, and he always stunk like week-old garbage. The only club bitches that went to bed with him had either drunk themselves into unconsciousness or gotten roofied by Dirty himself.

“Let’s ride,” Dirty said. “Get the f*ck outta Miles and hit up Billings, grab some * to go.”

Maybe that’s what he needed. Fresh meat to flush Danny out of his system.

“I’m down,” Hawk muttered and no sooner than the words had left the guy’s mouth, a ceramic bowl came hurtling through the air. They all ducked; the thing hit the wall and shattered on impact. As shards of ceramic went flying in all directions, Hawk jumped up, causing his chair to tip backward.

“Woman,” Hawk growled, glaring at Dorothy. “I’m well past sick of your bullshit.”

Confused, Ripper glanced between the two of them.

Dorothy’s dishcloth hit the counter with a wet slap and she matched Hawk’s glare with one of her own.

Which would have been funny if he wasn’t so confused, seeing as Dorothy was all of five foot nothing, a tiny slip of a woman, and he was positive he’d seen Hawk eat steaks bigger than her.

“You’ve got no right to be sick of my bullshit!”

Hawk’s mouth flattened and his fists clenched. “The f*ck I don’t,” he growled low.

“You don’t!” she cried.

“Bitch, you throwin’ dishes at my f*ckin’ head, actin’ straight up jealous, is tellin’ me I got a f*ckin’ right.”

Dorothy’s now wide, horrified eyes shot to Dirty, then him, then back to Hawk.

“What is wrong with you?” she yelled. “You’ve already done enough damage and now you’re making it worse!”

Eyebrows raised, Ripper got the feeling he was missing something.

Hawk kicked at his fallen chair and took a menacing step toward her. “Damage!” he roared. “Is that what you call it? ’Cause I’m—”

The swinging kitchen doors burst open and Cage ran in, holding a purple backpack over his head.