Teardrop Shot(32)
“There’s a string in the middle of the room. You gotta pull it.”
I was not entering that fairway. With both of us standing in the middle of the room, swinging arms around, someone was bound to lose an eye.
A few more curses from him, he found it and yanked.
Light flooded the room. I was greeted by a pissed-off pro basketball player, who’d showered and was wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt that looked like it was made of the softest material on Earth. Seriously. Whoever made that shirt was a genius, because I wanted to touch it.
I was raising my hand to do just that when he shifted backward. “What are you doing?”
“Your shit looks so soft. I wanted—”
“My shit?”
“What?” I blinked. Huh?
“You said shit.”
“Shirt.” Shit. Um… I cocked my head. “What’s going on here?”
“I asked what you were doing coming in so late. And you reek of booze. I couldn’t sleep, and I heard you and your friend driving up, so I came down to wait for you. You walk like a tortoise.”
“I’m drunk. And it’s night.” That made the perfect sense to me, and I remembered his earlier question. “I was a unicorn.”
“I’m so fucking confused by you.” He rubbed his forehead. “What are you talking about now? A unicorn?” “Me and the abuela.”
“Abuela?”
“I call her THE abuela, but I’m sure she goes by Abuela too.”
“Who are you talking about?”
“Sophia’s family. Her grandmother. And then there’s Nana, mija, and lots of cousins, but the abuela and I were a dancing unicorn together. I threw confetti.”
“I gathered.” He nodded at me. “You’re covered in glitter.”
I shrugged. “From the confetti and the dancing.”
“Where’d you get the confetti?”
Another shrug. “The world’s greatest mystery. Where does confetti really come from?”
Suddenly his eyebrows went flat. “You guys went drinking.”
“The booze oozing out of my pores indicates that. I thought we were past that.”
“No. I thought you camp people stayed here all the time.” He shook his head, rubbing his jaw as he looked around the room. “What kind of shithole do you stay in?”
He took in the fishing net that made up a chandelier, scanned the wall of fish hooks turned upside down. He wrinkled his nose. “This place smells too. Holy fuck.” He took a good whiff. “What is that?”
“It’s the old fishing cabin. I barely notice it now.”
“Because it’s on you.”
“What?” No! “Take that back.” I hit him in the arm.
“Who put you in here?”
“My boss.”
“Your boss who’s a dick?”
Best friends, this guy and me. I felt a good kick in the nether regions. Not good, though.
“You can’t do things like that,” I told him.
“Like what?”
“Like be on the same page as me.” I motioned to my groin. “Makes the he-girl happy down there.”
He groaned, but asked, “Your vagina is male? That’s where you’re going with that?”
Of course. Made perfect sense.
He rolled his eyes. “You can cut that shit. I’ve been watching you all week, and I know your deal.”
That didn’t sound good.
A knot was forming inside me. I felt its tentacles starting to wrap around. Okay. It was more of an octopus inside me, but it would harden and knot. All knots.
He sounded impatient as he picked up a bag of mine. “This whole crazy charade you’re putting on is just that. It’s a facade. You’re not a real stalker. You’re not even half a stalker.”
“I am too.”
He opened my bag, and I let him. I don’t know why, but I did. He dumped out some papers I had stuffed in there and began looking around. He went into my bedroom and grabbed some of my shirts. Putting them into the bag, he reached for more clothing.
“It’s an act,” he informed me. “Yeah, you might have weird tendencies, and you might be a fan, but that’s it. You’re not a groupie. You’re not a fanatic. If you were, I would’ve needed to kick you out of my cabin five times by now, and you’ve not once come over.” He shoved more of my clothes into the bag. “I asked you one question, and you folded. Someone truly nuts would be convinced I was asking you to marry me. She’d have horrible boundaries, and you are really all about boundaries. Jesus. You told me to back off after one personal question. You closed up and flipped the switch. You’re not even super friendly anymore.”
He was done. My bag was so full he couldn’t zip it closed.
I motioned him aside and took it, stuffing my underwear down so there was enough space to close the zipper. Then I handed it back to him.
He took it, staring at me. “I don’t know your deal. I don’t want you to know my deal, but sometime over the last week, I started to like you.” He pointed at me. “And not like that. You’re kinda cool, and I don’t say that shit to anyone, so if you claim I said it tomorrow, I’ll lie. Got it?”