Thus my current state of confusion.
“You okay?” I asked her.
“I'm fine!” she said, her pearly whites nearly blinding me. Natasha was dark-?skinned, dark-?haired, and Tyra Banks bodacious. I could feel all the soft curves of her body as she pressed it closer to mine and it made me blush. As a woman of seriously boylike proportions, I had no idea how she walked around with all
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that stuff. “Listen. I just wanted to apologize if I've been less than welcoming the last couple of days,” she said, pulling me back away from the guys. “I'm still a little upset about Leanne and I think I've been taking it out on you. And that's not cool. Do you forgive me?”
The other thing about Natasha was that she was always coming out with these frank, no-?nonsense statements. Unlike every other girl I had ever known, she seemed to have nothing to hide. It was a foreign concept.
“Uh... sure,” I said uncertainly.
“Good! Because I really want us to be friends,” Natasha said, grasping my hand. “Good friends.”
Her expression was so earnest it made me smile, half in amusement, half in genuine pleasure.
“Okay. I'd like that too,” I said.
“Good!” Natasha cried. She produced a miniscule digital camera from the pocket of her black leather jacket and held it up with one hand, while hugging me to her with her other. “Smile!”
I did as told and the flash went off. I blinked at the floating purple spots.
“An instant classic,” Natasha declared, checking the tiny screen.
“Cool.” I glanced past her at Josh and the others, who were now conferencing in lower voices. I wondered if they were still talking about Thomas, and if they would tell me anything if they were. “I'll... be right back.”
I was halfway across to the fire when suddenly all the guys looked up as one and shouted, right at me, “Whittaker!”
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I nearly tripped. “What?”
“Gentlemen! Ladies! Ah, it warms my heart to see everyone gathered here, just like old times.”
Huh?
Walking up behind me was the largest specimen of a guy I had ever seen outside a college football game. He had to be at least six foot four and was well over 250 pounds, but he carried all that weight with dignity, his shoulders back, his stride confident. He had ruddy cheeks, round glasses, and a much older man's haircut, the kind that stood up in the front about an inch and was matted down with gel in the back. He strode across the clearing, nodding to the Billings Girls like some aristocrat before reaching out a hand to smack palms with Dash, Gage, Josh, and the others.
“How are we all this fine evening?” he asked in his booming voice. He placed his hands over the fire, rubbed them together, and then held them out again.
Who was this guy? And why did he talk like he'd just stepped out of a Jane Austen novel?
“How was East Asia? Is Chinese food really better in China?” Gage joked, swigging his beer.
I missed Whittaker's response due to another gust of wind, but all the guys laughed at whatever he had to say, gathering around and looking up at him with amused smiles and excited eyes. It was as if Santa Claus had just walked into a room full of kindergarteners. I found myself gravitating slowly toward Noelle and the others.
“Reed, I was starting to think you'd forgotten about us,” Noelle
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said flatly, taking a sip of her beer. She was the only Billings Girl who drank beer, which had been my motivation in choosing it. The rest opted for mixed drinks made from whatever bottles Kiran and the boys managed to procure. “What're you, in love all over again?”
“Huh?”
“You can't stop staring at Whittaker,” Kiran put in, her brown eyes gleaming. “Interesting choice.”
“Please. I'm not staring,” I said. “I'm just. .. Who is he?”