The Risk (Briar U #2)(52)

Fitz doubles over in laughter. “Hold on a sec,” he wheezes. “You’re going out with her again?”

I snicker. “Two more times?”

“I don’t think I have a choice,” Hollis moans. “Apparently I’m taking her to a movie on Tuesday.”

Fitz nods. “Nice. It’s half-price on Tuesdays. You should go see the new Marvel movie.”

“I don’t want to see the new Marvel movie, you jackass. I don’t want to go out with this girl. She’s too young and too annoying and—” He startles, then sticks his hand in the pocket of his sweatpants. He produces his phone and blanches at the screen. “Oh my God, it’s her.”

“You saved her in your phone?” I demand.

“She did. She grabbed my phone in the middle of dinner and created a contact for herself. She saved it as Rupi with the heart-eyes emoji. She’s in my phone with heart-eyes, for fuck’s sake.”

I roll onto my side and quake with silent laughter.

At the desk, Fitz is shaking his head in amusement. “You know you can change that, right?”

Hollis is too busy answering the call. He barely gets out a “hello” before excited chatter pours out of his phone.

Fitz and I exchange a grin. I have no idea what Rupi’s saying, but she’s talking a mile a minute, and the horrified expression on Hollis’s face is priceless. This is the most entertainment I’ve had in years.

“But I don’t like romantic comedies,” he whines.

The tinny chattering continues.

“No, I don’t. I don’t want to see a movie. If you’re so determined to hang out, then let’s go somewhere and bang.”

Shrieking ensues.

I curl over in hysterics.

“Holy shit, fine! We’ll go see your stupid movie, but you better make out with me, Rupi, and don’t give me any bullshit about not kissing on the second date, because if you were any other chick we’d already be banging.”

The rest of the world no longer exists to Mike Hollis. He climbs off the bed and wanders out of Summer’s room. His flustered voice drifts in from the hall. “I am not a sex maniac! I haven’t had sex since I met you.”

I glance at Fitz. “Is that true?”

“I think so. But let’s be real—it’s not like he was a hookup king before that. He talks a big game, but he’s actually a lot pickier than he lets on. I don’t believe he gets laid half as often as he claims.”

“Oh, he definitely doesn’t,” comes Summer’s muffled response from the closet. “That boy has no game whatsoever.”

“He’s a hockey player,” I point out. “Hockey players don’t need much game off the ice. The groupies are always happy to see them.”

“What do you guys think about this dress?” Summer reappears wearing a white strapless number with fringe on the hem.

“It’s nice,” her boyfriend says.

“Bee?”

“Way too innocent. I’d never wear it.”

“Of course you wouldn’t wear it—it’s not black. Tell me whether or not I look good in it.”

“You look good in everything. It’s disgusting and I hate you, and seriously, you can get rid of half that closet and still look like a supermodel in whatever’s left.”

She beams. “You’re right, this is a great dress. I’ll keep it.”

I exchange another amused glance with Fitz. It still boggles my mind that these two are a couple. Yet somehow the fashion major and the nerdy gamer make it work.

“What are you guys doing tonight?” I ask. “I imagine my dad will be working the team pretty hard this week, so this might be your last chance to unwind, right?”

“For real,” Fitz says. “And I don’t know, we’ll probably just…” He shrugs sheepishly.

Translation: they’re going to spend the whole night in bed.

“How about you?” he asks.

“Probably staying home,” I lie.

“Really? No repeat with the Tinder date?” Summer rejoins the conversation. She drops two faded sweatshirts in the donate pile.

“What Tinder date?” Fitz demands.

“Bee had a date last night. Which she didn’t even tell me about.”

“There’s nothing to tell. We didn’t click, and I’m not seeing him again.” It’s disturbing how naturally lying comes to me.

Summer offers an apologetic smile. “We’d invite you to hang out with us tonight, but we’re going to be very busy having sex.”

Fitz sighs heavily. “Babe.”

“What?”

He just shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about it,” I say, grinning at them. “I have a ton of homework to do, anyway.”

“Sounds exciting,” Summer teases.

She doesn’t know the half of it.





17





Brenna





Jake texts me the location of our date while I’m eating dinner with my father. We’re having vegetable stir-fry that I cooked, and it’s been a mostly silent meal, seeing as how we don’t have much to say to each other these days.