The Score - Page 22/99

“You boys let me know if you need anything else,” she coos. “I’m only a holler away.”

We both check out her ass when she turns around. I don’t even feel pervy about it, because she’s pretty much inviting our appreciative glances by shaking that round bottom and swaying her hips as she walks. Her short black shirt reminds me of the other fine ass I saw this weekend. An ass that Beau, despite my numerous vocal warnings, is very familiar with.

“I saw Sabrina at Malone’s on Friday,” I tell him.

He shifts his gaze away from the waitress. “Yeah?”

I nod. “You still seeing her?” And by seeing, I mean no-strings banging, because Beau and I are kindred spirits. He doesn’t do relationships, either.

“Naah. It fizzled out,” he admits. “She’s too busy.”

“Busy doing what?” As far as I know, Sabrina doesn’t even have a job.

“No clue. She lives in Boston, so I guess the commute has something to do with it. But it got to the point where she was only coming to see me once, maybe twice a month? And she disappears on the weekends, just…poof, disappears.” He shrugs. “I figured she was playing hard to get, but now I legit think she’s leading a double life.” He pauses. “You think she’s CIA?”

I consider it. “No conscience, black heart…yeah, makes sense.”

He snickers. “Aw, fuck off. She’s a cool chick, even if she is impossible to read.”

“If by cool chick you mean ‘judgmental bitch’, then sure.” It’s my turn to change the subject. “Hey, so Justin came by last week, and he said there’s this freshman wideout on the team who might amount to something?”

Beau nods. “Johnson. He’s fast, but he still has issues with securing the ball.”

We chat about our respective teams again for the next ten minutes. I might play hockey while Beau is Mr. Football, but we’re fans of each other’s sports, so the conversation flows smoothly between us. After we’ve ordered a second round of beers, the subject shifts back to chicks, as I glumly relay to Beau the offer Kelly had made back at the arena.

“What the fuck, man? You turned down an orgy? An orgy I was invited to?” He shakes his head at me. “Are you coming down with the flu or something?”

I run my fingers along the neck of the beer bottle. “Naah. Just wasn’t feeling it.”

“You weren’t feeling an orgy—with twin sisters.” Disbelief drips from his tone. “Who the hell are you and what have you done with my man Dean?”

I groan. “I don’t know. I’m screwed, dude. I hooked up with someone the other night, and now I can’t get her out of my head.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“Nope. God-awful truth.”

Beau continues to gape at me.

“You think I like this?” I say defensively. “Trust me, I don’t need this headache in my life.” I swallow a mouthful of beer. “Hey. You know Twilight?”

He blinks. “Excuse me?”

“Twilight. The vampire book.”

His wary eyes study my face. “What about it?”

“Okay, so you know how Bella’s blood is extra special? Like how it gives Edward a raging boner every time he’s around her?”

“Are you fucking with me right now?”

I ignore that. “Do you think it happens in real life? Pheromones and all that crap. Is it a bullshit theory some horndog dreamed up so he could justify why he’s attracted to his mother or some shit? Or is there actually a biological reason why we’re drawn to certain people? Like goddamn Twilight. Edward wants her on a biological level, right?”

“Are you seriously dissecting Twilight right now?”

God, I am. This is what Allie has reduced me to. A sad, pathetic loser who goes to a bar and forces his friend to participate in a Twilight book club.

“I don’t know whether to make fun of you or refer you to a shrink,” Beau says solemnly. “I’ve never met a dude who’s actually read that book.”

“I haven’t read it. My sister was obsessed with those books when they came out. She used to follow me around the house and offer me recaps against my will.”

“Uh-huh. Sure. Blame it on your sister.” Beau laughs before going serious again. “Okay, so you’re horny for this chick. Why don’t you just nail her again?”

“Because she doesn’t want to hook up again,” I reply through clenched teeth.

“Impossible. Everyone wants to hook up with you.”

“I know, right?” I lift the bottle to my lips. “So what should I do?”

Beau offers a shrug. “Get over it. Go out with someone else.”

I only pick up on the Wayne’s World reference because Tucker and I literally watched it last weekend when it came on TV. “Nice.” I grin at him and add, “I don’t even own a gun, let alone many guns that would necessitate an entire rack.”

We both recite the next line, “What am I gonna do…with a gun rack?”

Our loser selves proceed to break out in laughter and high five each other, and then Beau addresses the topic at hand. “Seriously, though.” He gestures around the bar. “This place is full of women who’d sell their firstborn to go home with you. Pick one and sex this other chick right out of your head.”

“My dick won’t let me,” I mutter.

Beau snickers. “Can you repeat that, please?”

“My dick is being difficult,” I explain irritably. “I tried to jerk off to porn last night, and swear to God, damn thing wouldn’t get hard. Then I thought of All—this girl,” I correct myself, because I promised Allie I wouldn’t tell anyone about our night together “—and bam” I snap my fingers. “Hard as a rock.”

Beau eyes me thoughtfully. “You know, I don’t think we’re dealing with a Bella’s-magical-blood situation here.”

“No?”

“No. I think you’ve imprinted on this girl’s pussy.”

A choked cough sounds from behind me, and I turn in time to see our waitress walking by. Her cheeks are red, lips twitching as if she’s trying not to bust a gut.

I turn back to Beau. “What do you mean?”