Good Girl Page 43

“Unbelievable,” she mutters good-naturedly, pulling her wallet out of her purse and slapping a twenty in his palm. “That girl has no self-respect.”

“Oh, come on,” Finn says. “You can’t tell me Noah here’s any better. I watched this fool get through puberty. He’s had some clunkers for lines, trust me.”

“Yeah?” Jenny asks, turning toward me and taking a sip of her drink. “So far I’ve yet to hear more than a few grunts and grumbles.”

“Which seems to be working quite well for you,” I shoot back, my eyes flicking over her just briefly.

Her gaze narrows slightly, and I expect her to get pissy that I’ve just outed our sexual status in front of Finn, but instead she leads forward, running a nail down the front of my shirt. “I think we’re a little confused about who seduced whom, princess.”

“Details,” Finn says in a loud whisper. “I want all the details.”

Normally I’d shoot him the bird, but I can’t seem to make myself look away from Jenny. My mind is racing with the memories of our various hookups, yes, but there’s something else that holds me. A comfortableness between the two of us that’s a hell of a lot scarier than the sexual attraction.

“Aw, look, they’re having a moment,” Finn says.

This time I do give him the finger.

“I’ll be right back,” I mutter, turning away from Jenny and getting up to head toward the bathroom. I don’t really need to, but I do need a minute to get my head out of my ass before I do something idiotic like kiss a girl I have no business kissing.

As I walk away, I hear Jenny laugh at one of Finn’s lame jokes, but it’s a genuine laugh, and I realize that’s another point of danger for me. Jenny seems to like Finn. Finn definitely likes Jenny. It’s a far cry from every time I tried to put Yvonne and Finn in the same room and they’d both descend into disdainful silence.

For once there’s no line for the tiny, one-person bathroom, and I brace my hands on the sides of the sink, taking a deep breath and looking in the mirror.

“Get it the fuck together,” I mutter at my reflection.

It’s got to stop.

Too often in the past couple of days, I’ve been dangerously close to wishing it could be like this all the time. That I could be with a girl who likes my best friend, doesn’t flinch at dirty dive bars, drinks Jack and Coke, and wears cowboy boots on long, sexy-as-hell legs.

A girl I’m starting to like out of bed as much as I do in it.

When I come back out of the bathroom, Jenny and Finn are no longer at our table, and a quick scan of the room finds them in the far corner at a pool table.

I smile a little as I make my way to them, because they’re doing that clichéd thing that men and women do at the pool table where one stands behind the other, giving a “lesson” that involves lots of touching.

Only they’ve turned the cliché upside down. Jenny is standing behind Finn, arms around him, as she laughingly tries to show him how to hold the cue stick.

“You should just give up now,” I say as I approach.

Jenny glances at me as she tries to line up Finn’s cue with the ball. “Has he always been this bad?”

“Always.”

Finn confirms this by taking the shot, which misses by a mile. Jenny shakes her head and drops her arms. “Well, I tried.”

“You play pool?” I ask, nodding in thanks when she retrieves our drinks from a nearby table and hands me mine.

She shrugs. “I didn’t think I played very well, but compared to this guy…I’m not terrible.”

Finn is lining up to take another shot. “Hey, Reed,” I say. “You just had your turn.”

He doesn’t even look at me. “Does it really matter?”

Good point.

He shoots. Misses again.

“Bullshit game,” he says good-naturedly as he straightens and hands me the stick. “I’m gonna get another beer. You guys want?”

“I’m good,” I say.

Jenny nods in agreement, not looking away from my eyes.

Finn looks between the two of us before wandering away with a muttered “Gross.”

I glance at the table. “Wanna play?”

“Are you better than Finn?” she asks warily.

“I’m pretty sure Dolly would be better than Finn.”

She laughs and picks up a stick leaning against the corner of the table. “Winner buys drinks.”

Jenny’s not great at pool, but unfortunately she’s not bad enough to warrant me moving up behind her and showing her how it’s done, the way she did with Finn. A damn shame, because when she bends over to make her shot, her jean skirt rides up, displaying the backs of her thighs, stopping just short of that full, firm ass.

A quick glance around tells me I’m not the only guy who’s noticing, and I feel an irrational surge of jealousy, soothed only by the fact that she doesn’t seem to be aware of any of them.

Only of me.

“Thanks for letting me tag along tonight,” she says.

I glance up, because there’s a quiet seriousness in her voice that I don’t expect.

“It’s not like you need my permission, princess.”

“I know. But you could have just sent me here on my own. Maybe met up with Finn somewhere else, or dodged me altogether.”

I narrow my eyes, bracing some of my weight on the cue stick as I study her. “And why would I want to do that?”

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