Girl Crush(33)

Her laughter rang out in the air, and I was temporarily stunned by the distinct sound of a hyena having taken up near the pool. “I’m Amy.” The girl’s voice was totally normal, but I hoped like hell that laugh had been created from nerves and wasn’t here to stay. Otherwise, Roxie and I were going to have to talk. “Roxie’s girlfriend.”

My heart shouldn’t have sunk. My shoulders had no reason to slump. My stomach had no right to revolt. Jealousy was a twisted bitch, but I couldn’t figure out why I was envious. I didn’t want my friends to be single, and I had no interest in any of them romantically, but that green-eyed monster reared its head just the same, and I had to fight against it being visible to anyone else.

“Nice to meet you. How’d you and Roxie meet?” I didn’t wait for her to respond before lowering my dark glasses onto my nose to hide my emotions and settled onto my back in the sun.

“Roller derby.”

Sucker punch to the gut. That was our thing. Not our thing, but our thing. I couldn’t believe Roxie had gone without me. I tried to think back through the schedule but couldn’t remember a single bout I’d missed since Roxie had taken me on our second date. Which meant, Roxie had met her with me there. It shouldn’t matter. Roxie and I were friends—friends could pick up dates when they were out together—so it wasn’t against the code.

“I ran into her at the concession stand a few weeks ago.”

I didn’t know what to say. I was a tad hurt by the fact she hadn’t mentioned she’d met someone in all the times we’d hung out, but maybe this was a new development. Or maybe I was just jealous that all these women seemed to have found perfect companions, and I still flew solo.

The conversation flowed around me, and I settled in to absorb the vitamin D. My phone kept going off in my bag, and I struggled not to reach for it to see who it was. I figured it would be Heather, and I didn’t want to answer questions from my clan about another female in my life. When they all seemed engrossed in something other than paying attention to me, I went for a quick peek.

“Who’s that, Gizzy?” Fucking Veronica.

My face flushed with heat which I hoped was masked by the sun I’d gotten all afternoon. “No one.” I should have lied. My best friend saw right through me.

“No one’s been blowing you up for the last two hours?” She snatched my cell from my hand and ran with it.

There was no point in trying to retrieve it, that would only serve to make me look guiltier than I already felt.

“So who’s Heather?” She cocked her tan hip out to the side and put a beautifully manicured hand on it while holding the phone out to show me the screen…as if I wasn’t aware of what was on it. The color of her nails was stunning, but I refrained from asking about it and just answered her question.

“Just a friend.”

“Then why are you hiding her?”

At that point, I got up and snatched my phone from Ronnie’s fingers knowing all eyes were on me…like I owed them all some sort of explanation. “I’m not hiding her. I’m just not subjecting her to the likes of you guys.” I gave her an eat-shit look and resumed my spot on my towel.

“I thought you’d given up on women?” Beck’s expression was one of confusion.

“No…I gave up on men. I quit discussing women with all of you since you seemed hell bent on preventing my conversion.”

“That’s because you can’t convert to lesbianism, Giselle, not because we aren’t trying to be supportive. It isn’t a religion you decide to believe in one day.” Trish had morphed into this protective mama bear of sorts ever since we’d called a truce.

I knew their intentions were well meant, but none of them had bothered to stop to think I was serious about this and try to help me. It had all been a joke to them. Admittedly, things hadn’t gone all that well with the opposite sex, and I was slightly repulsed by punani, but I was equally turned off by men. Maybe I should become asexual—or rubbersexual since the only action I got these days came in the form of a battery-operated toy.

“She’s just a friend, you guys. We haven’t even met. All we do is text and talk on the phone. Just like I do with you whores. No different. I’m not sniffing her panties or making out with her under the bleachers.” The huff I let out indicated my irritation, and Beck picked up on it quickly.

Forever the peacemaker, she quickly tried to change the subject. “Are you guys hungry? What’s everyone in the mood for? I’ll order and have it delivered, so no one has to get up.”

They all agreed on food; I opted for a salad. I wasn’t interested in pounding out more miles on the pavement than I was already committed to in the morning. And when Beck brought out the beer, I passed on it, too. I might be approaching the dreaded F word, but I wasn’t there yet, and I’d be damn sure when I reached my next birthday, my body didn’t look it. Age was only a number, and I fought hard against it.

The food had shown up less than thirty minutes before the wrath of Collier, or Brutus. I’d been rather quiet all afternoon, but the rest of the group was in full mingle mode when the beast erupted. I saw him come through the patio doors and could tell by the look on his face he was pissed.

“Goddammit, Beck. How many times do I have to tell you not to use my fucking credit cards for stupid shit?”