“We made out, he finger banged me, and then I told him I had to go, I forgot I was meeting someone.”
I blink at her. “You dick tease.”
She laughs. “He’ll be chasing me like there’s no tomorrow now. Also, the man is incredibly skilled with his fingers so I can’t wait to see what he can do with the other, larger parts of himself. I’m going to make him chase me until he can’t take it any longer then, and only then, I might consider letting him taste the rest of this pie.”
I laugh. “You’re evil.”
“One hundred percent. The trunk is done, I’ll do the left side. God, I can’t wait to see his face when he comes in here in the morning.”
“I know, I wish we could see it,” I say, smoothing out a Post-It note.
“I’m sure we’ll hear all about it.”
I laugh.
We finish up the job, which takes another three hours, but by the end, the once silver car is now yellow.
I pull out my phone and snap a picture, and then, giving Ramona a high five, we sneak back out, lock the door behind us, and rush back to my apartment.
The morning is going to be epic, I can’t bloody wait.
Ramona and I fall asleep on the sofa, at god knows what time, and stay there until the morning light streams through my front windows and wakes us. I groan and roll, my back sore from the awkward position I was sleeping in. Ramona grunts and rolls, burying her face into the pillow. I force myself to wake up, and then I remember what we did last night and leap to my feet, rushing over to the window and peering out.
The bikers are busy setting up for the big opening day, but the garage doors are closed.
I bite my lip and keep watching. I can’t see Riggs, but my guess is he’s in there currently pulling a thousand Post-It notes off his showcase car.
We’re evil and I love it.
I laugh and go over, making myself a coffee. Perhaps I’ll go over and pay them a little visit soon. Yeah, I think I will.
As I stir my coffee, his words ring over in my head, and I find my stomach twisting. I don’t like that feeling, the one where people call me names, but why is it affecting me so much coming from him? Is it just because of our twisted relationship, or could it be more?
“It’s not more, moron,” I mutter to myself, lifting my coffee from the counter and sipping it.
“Who are you talking to?” Ramona groans, walking into the kitchen.
“The coffee,” I say simply.
“Ugh, how early is it? I feel like I haven’t slept at all. Why are you awake? What is wrong with you?”
“Morning to you too,” I grin, making her a coffee.
“Wait!” she says, eyes pinging wide open as she rushes to the window. “Oh. Oh, no.”
“What?” I question, running over. “What is it? Move, Ramona.”
“He’s coming over here.”
“Who?”
“Riggs.”
“Shit.”
We move away from the window and scurry around like cats on a hot tin roof.
“What do we do?” I cry.
“Pretend we’re asleep?”
“He’ll know we’re not.”
“Oh, god.”
Pounding on my door a minute later has my head whipping to the left.
“Know you’re awake, saw you at the window. Open the door, woman.”
Oh, shit.
I look to Ramona with wide eyes. “You’re on your own!” she says, turning and rushing down the hall.
“Ramona!” I whisper-hiss.
“Three seconds, Evelina, or I kick the fuckin’ door down.”
“Oh. boy,” I whisper to myself as I rush over and unlock the door.
I’m faced with Riggs. He doesn’t look pissed, but he doesn’t look happy either. He stares at me for what seems like long, drawn-out minutes, and then he nods. “Well played, I’ll give you that much. Took me fuckin’ hours to get my car back up to scratch. Luckily for you, there was no damage.”
Oh.
Phew.
I smile. “Well, you know, I figured we were being too nice to each other.”
“You were jealous.”
I blink. “I beg your pardon?”
“Jealous, you were jealous because you figured out I don’t like you and was talkin’ about you to Kyla last night.”
“Firstly,” I snap, “Kyla has nothing to do with this, and what sort of fucking name is that anyway?”
“See, jealous.”
“Oh, my god, I’m not fucking jealous. You said something horrible about me, and so I pranked you. That’s literally it.”
“Whatever you say.”
I grit my teeth.
“I’m havin’ a carwash today, chicks in bikinis, probably not your scene so you’ll probably want to stay away.”
Oh.
He’s insulting me.
Because I wouldn’t look good in a bikini? Is that it?
Fuck him.
Fuck him right into next week.
“I’ll do what I want, it’s a public event,” I say, crossing my arms. “You can’t stop me from coming.”
“You cause a scene, we’re goin’ to have fuckin’ problems. Stay away from the guys, the bikini girls, and we’re fine.”
“So you want me to stand there, pretend to be a tree, and not move?”
He nods. “Sounds good.”
“You’re a real dick, you know that?”
“Yep,” he says casually.
“Why did you come all the way over here to insult me? You could have done that when I strolled in later.”
“Could have, wouldn’t have been as fun.”
I take a deep breath. “I’ll see you later, in my bikini, to show up all those other skinny bitches.”
He blinks. “You will fuckin’ not.”
“Oh, no, I will. I will come in there so hard they’ll wish they ate that second fucking cheeseburger. They’re going kiss their modelling careers goodbye and come to the dark side. The one where chocolate is a staple.”
He looks worried.
Good.
Fuck him.
“You better fuckin’ not come over there and cause a scene. I’ve got big investors rollin’ in, investors that want to see ...”
“Want to see what?” I challenge.
He grits his teeth together.
“No, by all means. Go on and insult me. I’m quite used to it. Tell me how my curves are ugly, or how I have a jiggly belly. Tell me how my boobs aren’t big enough and my skin isn’t bronze enough. Tell me how
