Good Girl Complex(Avalon Bay #1)(13)

I struggle to keep a straight face. This is too perfect. I almost feel bad doing this to her, but then she did suggest I have herpes, so not that bad.

“You know these twins?” I paste on an innocent tone.

“No, but if they’re so infamous their reputation on campus filtered all the way down to a freshman in the first week of school, their tales must be long and plentiful.” Her face scrunches in disgust. If this wasn’t so amusing, I might be offended. “Any guy that gets around that much is bound to fill up a petri dish with all manner of genital infestations.”

“Obviously,” I say solemnly. “Got a name for these twin patient zeros?”

“The Hartleys. They’re local.” Then her face lights up. “You don’t know them, do you? I mean, Bonnie would be excited to pick up a clue on her quest, but if they’re friends of yours or something …”

I almost can’t stand the anticipation anymore.

“Nah, forget those guys.” I’m fighting a grin. “Couple dirtbags, those two.”

“Mac! I need another drink and then we—Oh.” A short blonde walks up and stops short, staring straight through my skull. Her face turns a glowing pink as her big eyes dart to Mackenzie.

A few daunting seconds of mental gymnastics pass wordlessly between the girls before Mackenzie grabs my wrist and yanks one sleeve up my arm to reveal my tattoos.

“Oh fuck off,” she says to me, glaring fire. “No. Nope. Not fair.” She sits back and crosses her arms in defiance. “You knew I was talking about you and still let me go on like that?”

“I never pass up on free entertainment,” I say, my grin springing free.

Her roommate slides onto the stool beside Mackenzie, watching us. It suddenly occurs to me that the roommate situation could be tricky. Either this girl derails my plans by calling dibs and scaring off Mackenzie before I’ve ever had a shot, or she’s my ace in the hole. Get the roommate on my side and coast to the finish line. Luckily, I have a spare me to toss her way.

“You duped me.” Emphatic, Mackenzie tells me, “An intentional attempt at deception. That’s not allowed. In fact, this entire interaction is now moot. We didn’t meet. I don’t know you.”

“Wow.” I push back from the table, smothering a laugh. “You’ve given me a lot to think about. I’m gonna need another drink to soak that in. Another round?” This time I direct the question to the roommate, whose permanent look of awe has not waned.

“Yes, please,” she says. When Mackenzie appears she might object, the roommate shoots her a look. “Thank you.”

I head over to the bar and catch a glimpse of Alana, who gets up from our friends’ table to follow me. She takes a circuitous route to pass slowly by Mackenzie and her roommate while I order three beers.

“Looks like it went well,” Alana says when she finally slides in beside me. The current band’s set ends and there’s a brief lull before the canned music is pumped into the room as the next band sets up.

“She’s cool,” I answer, shrugging. “Kinda mouthy, but when has that ever stopped me?”

“Yeah, well, don’t get attached.” Alana orders a shot for herself.

“I just met the girl. Relax.” Besides, attachment’s never been my problem. Growing up the way I did, I learned a long time ago that everything is temporary. There’s no use investing too much of myself. Easier that way. Clean. Saves everyone all sorts of grief.

“I heard them talking.” Alana downs her shot and winces at the burn. “The blonde one was like, He’s yours if you want him, but our girl was like, Nah, go for it. So …” She turns around to lean against the bar, looking over at the girls’ table. “You’ve still got a lot of work to do there.”

“Long story, but I might have to throw Evan at the blonde one.”

“How ever will he manage,” Alana says, rolling her eyes at me.

The roommate’s hot, no doubt, but she’s not really my type. Anyway, she’s about half my size, and I hate throwing my back out bending down to kiss a girl.

The bartender comes back with our drinks and I gather them up, returning to the girls as Alana shouts something like Go get ’em, tiger at my back. I underestimated how obnoxious turning my sex life into a spectator sport would be.

At the table, I put the drinks down and take a seat. When Mackenzie pushes her water to the side to accept the beer, I know for certain she’s along for the ride. If she was going to get spooked and bolt, it would have been before I got back.

“Cooper Hartley.” I offer my hand to the roommate, who’s studying me not at all discreetly.

She shakes my hand, her small fingers lingering. “Bonnie May Beauchamp,” she says with a heavy Southern accent. “Don’t suppose your brother is lurkin’ around.”

“No, he’s probably getting into trouble somewhere.” Actually, he’s hustling rich kids out of their trust fund money at the pool tables a few doors down. It’s practically his second job. “Can’t take that kid anywhere.”

“That’s too bad.” Bonnie gives a playful pout.

It’s clear this Bonnie chick is a tiny bottle of fire. She’s got all kinds of mischievous sexual energy bursting out of her.

“We were hoping you had the skinny on the after-party, right, Mac? Somewhere …cozier.”