The Way to Game the Walk of Shame(42)

It sounded tempting. Really temping. Especially because I knew that Lauren’s idea of “what happens next” would probably have us in bed somewhere. Or in the back of a car.

I whistled low under my breath and turned away, avoiding her gaze. Her offer was so tempting, and god knows it had been so long since I’d had sex that I had practically forgotten how to do it. But I couldn’t do that to Taylor. Fake relationship or not.

I had thought that having a steady, routine relationship would be the most boring thing in the world, and I’d rather jump off a cliff than be in one. Regular dates. Hand-holding. Seeing the same person every damn day. Kissing the same lips all the time. God, kill me now.

But it was … nice. And more fun than I expected it to be. I was even looking forward to the next time I would have dinner with Taylor’s family. It was nice to sit through a family dinner. Mom tried to get Brandon and me to eat together all the time, but just seeing his face gave me indigestion.

At my hesitation, Lauren pursed her lips together in annoyance. “Let me guess, you’re busy tonight?”

I took a bite of the strawberry before answering. “Yeah, I actually am. I have a date with Taylor.”

She rolled her eyes. “Figures. What’s wrong with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you’re always busy these days.” Her blue eyes narrowed, and she sat up. Her arms crossed across her chest. “Everybody knows about that picnic you two had at school. I thought you had a sacred rule about not doing anything on Valentine’s Day?”

I popped the rest of the strawberry in my mouth and tried to hide my goofy grin as I thought about our picnic. And the sweet kiss Taylor gave me afterward. No need to get Lauren even more pissed than she already was.

All my rules were breaking for Taylor these days. Like today. I was supposed to come over and help her babysit Kimmy so she could focus on some Student Council thing. Or a presentation. She was always doing so many things that it was hard for me to keep track of everything. But I didn’t mind. Much. I never would admit it to anyone, but I wanted to hang out with Taylor. Even if it was just to be her minion for the night. Plus, she had a way of taking my mind off missing dads, lying moms, and shit like that.

“I thought I told you before that Taylor’s not like the other girls?”

That was definitely the wrong thing to say. Lauren’s face grew even colder. “So you’re saying that she’s different, but I’m just like one of the other girls.”

“No, ’course not. You’re my friend—” Her right eyebrow rose even higher. Crap, nothing I said would make this better. Man, she was touchy today. Probably best to just retreat while I still could. I hopped to my feet and grabbed my board. “You know, I think I’m going to surf a bit more before heading home.”

The water was icy cold and the waves were rough, but I’d rather face those crazy conditions than the pissed-off girl onshore. Lying on the board, I paddled my way farther into the ocean. I knew I couldn’t stay out there forever, but I could still try.

Maybe Aaron’s cowardice was contagious.

*

My head slumped down into my arms, and I sighed. Again. Which Taylor ignored. Again. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a slave driver? Dude, you’re like a work Nazi. Don’t you ever take a break?”

“I’ll take a break when the work is done.” Her eyes were still glued to the laptop she balanced on her lap. Without looking up, she shoved a pile of papers on the coffee table toward me with her foot. “Which, by the way, is never going to get done if you keep taking a bathroom break every two seconds. Are you sure you don’t have diabetes or a prostate problem or something?”

“I don’t have diabetes, and my prostate is perfectly healthy.” I leaned toward her and raised a suggestive eyebrow. “You want to check to make sure?”

“No, thank you. I have my hands full as it is.”

Even though Taylor denied it, I knew I was definitely rubbing off on her. A few weeks ago, she had blushed bright red at the mention of her underwear, and now here she was, sitting all prim and proper in the living room, talking about my junk with barely a tint of pink in her cheeks. I’m pretty sure I deserved an award for that. Instead, I was stuck working on the senior-class budget because, according to Taylor, our class treasurer was “a flake.” I had to take her word for it, because I didn’t know who the hell our treasurer was.

I didn’t even know we had a class budget.

Still, I kind of thought she was kidding. Rule number one about Taylor: The girl never kids when it comes to schoolwork.

So here I was at her house babysitting Kimmy while her parents were partying like normal people. Actually, they had gone to an office dinner, so probably not quite the partying I was used to, but they were still out.

Don’t get me wrong, I’d babysat with girls before, but I usually got some action in return when the kid fell asleep. And I definitely didn’t spend the entire night punching numbers into a calculator.

I thought about Lauren a couple of times. Kind of hard not to. She kept texting me every ten minutes to see what I was doing and if I had changed my mind about meeting her.

My phone buzzed again, and Taylor peered over at me with a frown, as if she were a teacher and my phone was interrupting her class. “Lauren again?”