Good Girl Complex(Avalon Bay #1)(50)

“Oh my goodness!” the waitress up front exclaims, pure delight in her eyes. “Look at this cutie! What’s her name?”

“Daisy,” Tate answers for me, then takes the leash from my hand as if to claim ownership of the puppy. “And you are?”

“Jessica,” chirps the waitress. Now she’s all starry-eyed, because she notices Tate’s golden-boy looks. Dude has the infallible ability to dazzle every woman he meets.

This isn’t to say I don’t attract my fair share of attention. It’s just a different kind of attention.

When women look at Tate, they’re struck with romantic notions of weddings and babies.

With me, they see raw, dirty sex. Joke’s on them, though. Tate is the biggest slut in the Bay. Jessica must be new in town, otherwise she’d be well aware of this fact.

“Let me show you to your table,” Jessica says, and then she, Tate, and my dog saunter off.

With a grin, I trail after them, silently betting that Tate will have secured her number before we even pick up our menus.

I lose. He doesn’t get it until she delivers our waters.

“Good job, partner,” Tate tells Daisy, who’s sitting at his feet and gazing up at him adoringly.

Wyatt arrives about ten minutes later. Since Ren isn’t with him, I assume they’re still broken up.

“No Ren?” Tate wrinkles his forehead. “She hasn’t taken you back yet?”

“Nope.” After greeting Daisy with a pat on the head, Wyatt plops himself on the stool across from me and grabs a menu. Then he sets it down without reading it. “Who am I kidding? We all know I’m getting the fish sandwich.”

“What’s taking Ren so long to forgive you?” Tate asks, grinning. “Your epic reunions usually happen fairly fast.”

“She’s dragging it out this time,” Wyatt complains. “She went out with some meathead from her gym last night and sent me a selfie of them watching The Bachelorette together because she knew it’d piss me off.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Why would that piss you off?”

“Because it’s our favorite show, dickhead. She’s goddamn TV-cheating on me with a guy who wears mesh tank tops.”

Tate snickers. “Are you more upset about the fact that Ren’s watching a dumb reality show without you, or that she might be banging a gym bro?”

Wyatt waves his hand. “She’s not banging him. It’s just revenge dating. Like when I went out with that chick who works at the surf school after Ren threw out all my band shirts without asking.”

“Didn’t you end up screwing the surf school chick?” Tate says in confusion.

Wyatt stares at him. “That was you, dumbass.”

After a few seconds of pensive recollection, Tate nods decisively. “Oh yeah. You’re right.” He grins. “That chick was wild. She convinced me to try Viagra for the first time. Long night.”

Laughter sputters from my throat.

“You took Viagra without me, bro?” Wyatt accuses.

I laugh even harder. “Since when is it a team activity?” I howl at Wyatt.

Jessica returns to take our food orders and proceeds to flirt shamelessly with Tate. “Does this cutie like walks?”

He winks. “This cutie loves walks.”

“I meant the dog.”

“So did I,” he says innocently.

“I’m off in about an hour. Why don’t you and Daisy meet me on the beach once you’re done eating and I clock out?”

Before I can remind Tate that Daisy isn’t his dog, he flashes his dimples at the waitress and says, “It’s a date.”

As Jessica saunters off, I roll my eyes. “Are you seriously using my puppy to get laid?”

“Of course. I told you, puppies are chick magnets.” He shoves a strand of hair off his forehead. “Just let me borrow her for a few hours, dude. You know I’m good with dogs. I’ve got three at home.”

“Fine. But I’m not hanging around town on your account. Drop her off at my place later. Her dinnertime’s at five. Don’t be late, asshole.”

Tate grins. “Yes, Dad.”

“You think if I had Daisy with me when I go to see Ren, I’d have a better shot at winning her back?” Wyatt asks thoughtfully.

“Definitely,” Tate says.

Wyatt’s head swivels toward me. “Can I borrow her tomorrow?”

My friends are idiots.

Then again, so am I. Because when my phone buzzes and Mac’s name flashes on the screen, I don’t do the smart thing and ignore the call.

I answer it.





CHAPTER TWENTY


MACKENZIE

The summer after I graduated high school, I traveled alone in Europe. A present from my parents. I had just walked back to the Colosseum from Vatican City when, in a sort of burst of manic impulsiveness, I marched right past my hotel to the train station. I didn’t know where I was headed. I simply bought a first-class ticket on the next train, which happened to be going to Florence. From there, Bologna. Milan. Then, through Switzerland, France, and Spain. Two days after leaving Italy, I called my hotel to have them send my luggage to Barcelona.

To this day, I don’t know what possessed me. A sudden, urgent need to break free, to get lost. To disrupt the order of my life and prove to myself I was alive and in control of my own destiny. Which is to say I don’t remember deciding to call Cooper, only that one day after Preston shot down my hotel fantasy, two weeks since I’d kissed Cooper and told him never to contact me again, and fifteen minutes after we hang up, he’s standing beside me on the boardwalk staring at the dilapidated exterior of The Beacon Hotel.