Out of Love(44)

“I don’t know what we are.”

“Maybe you need to have that talk.”

“Talk,” I murmured, contemplating whether or not I should respond, let him know I didn’t send the original message. What if I had been the one to send it? “Yeah, Wylder isn’t exactly the best talker.”

“It was just a joke. Clearly. But that response …” Kara crossed her arms over her chest. “Not cool. Maybe you should find better company tonight. Show him you won’t be treated that way.”

Tucking my phone into my back pocket, I pivoted to return to the kitchen. “I’m not going to screw some other guy to make a point. Remember how well that worked for me last time? Besides … I do have better company.” I smiled over my shoulder, and she hugged me from behind.

“Girl time!”

After we finished unpacking, I forced myself to put on my best face while we grabbed dinner and stocked up on groceries. One sober and three moderately drunk college girls.

Let’s just say we bought way too much junk food. I knew green smoothie Aubrey would not be happy that I didn’t make everyone stick to our list. We put the groceries away with music blaring, wine flowing, and me missing Wylder and Jerry so bad it angered me.

Why? Why did I let him or the lack of him affect me so much?

“One glass …” Missy giggled, singing all the wrong lyrics to Blake Shelton as she held out a nearly empty bottle of wine while twirling in a circle next to the pool. Thankfully, it had a cover. I might have been able to save one drunk girl, but not three. The other two sipped more wine and stared at their phone screens from lounge chairs under strings of white and blue lights, blankets draped over their legs to keep the nip of the cool evening at bay.

“I’m good.” I grabbed the bottle from Missy before she dropped it. Then I proceeded to pick up some trash from our late-night snack attack.

“Is he a drunk? Your dad. You’ve never elaborated,” Kara murmured from her chair, chin tipped into her phone.

“No,” I returned while shoving the empty licorice bag into the empty salt and pepper potato chip bag. “He just—”

“Corbin’s coming over!” Aubrey jumped out of her chair. “Oh my god. I need to sober up. Shit …” She ran her fingers through her hair. “How do I look?” She giggled, swaying a bit. “Why? Why on my wine night? Do I smell like wine?” Lifting her arm, she sniffed her pit.

I laughed, the only one to see her odd behavior.

“Do we have to go to our rooms, Mom?” Kara snorted something like a giggle and a cough.

“Water, bae. Lots of water.” I grabbed Aubrey’s hand and led her into the kitchen.

“I’ll have a full bladder.” She reluctantly took a few sips. “Then I’ll have to pee right after we … you know. Then he’ll sneak out. He always sneaks out.”

“You won’t have to pee.” Missy swayed, making her way into the kitchen with her empty wine glass and Aubrey’s empty Pinot bottle. “Not if he gives you an orgasm.”

“Why? I’m going to pee if I orgasm?” Aubrey’s nose wrinkled, showing her lack of sexual experience and apparently her lack of orgasms.

“I hope not.” Missy chuckled. “When you climax, your body releases vasopressin, an antidiuretic hormone, which makes it hard to pee.”

“Huh …” Aubrey’s head cocked to the side. “I’ve never had that issue.”

“Poor baby.” I guided the water bottle toward her mouth. “Drink up, and if he doesn’t give you an orgasm … pee on him.”

Missy leaned against the counter, glazed-over eyes lifting to meet my gaze. I returned a tight grin, that sympathetic one for our friend who was orgasm deficient.

While Kara and Missy retired to their rooms, I made a peanut butter sandwich—knowing I’d be grateful for the extra energy when surfing early the next morning. Aubrey sobered up in the shower for Corbin, the surf shop owner whom Aubrey adored. Given the recent orgasm revelation, I couldn’t figure out why she adored him. She didn’t even surf. Maybe he was good at cuddling.

When the bell rang, I took a huge bite of my sandwich and set it on the counter to let Corbin in for his bootie call.

“Oh …” I mumbled, covering my mouth, unable to say anything with peanut butter thoroughly coating every inch of my mouth.

“If you’re done being dicked, I thought we could take a drive.” Wylder gazed down at me.

Before I could finish chewing or even blink because I couldn’t believe he was there, Corbin sauntered up the drive behind him. His overbearing cologne reached the doorway before he did.

“Hey, Livy.”

I nodded at him, attempting to swallow. It was possible I overdid the peanut butter.

Wylder turned a fraction, eyeing stocky Corbin, a good five inches shorter than Slade. “This the guy who thinks he’s going to dick you?”

Nearly choking, I slapped my hand on my chest as I swallowed repeatedly. There was something quite hilarious about Slade Wylder and his intimidating presence using the word “dicked.”

“No …” My tongue swiped around my mouth several times. “He’s here to dick Aubrey.”

Corbin’s face wrinkled as his uneasy smile quivered. “Um … I … where is Aubrey?”