Play (Stage Dive 2) - Page 20

“It came as something of a surprise to me as well. But it’s great, right?” The boy had bed head and it wasn’t from sleeping. No way was he coming into my home and giving me shit over finding me similarly (allegedly) occupied.

“Great,” he replied flatly.

“He’s a really nice guy when you get to know him.”

“Sure.”

“He makes me smile, you know? Doesn’t take me for granted,” I said, going in for the kill. So I had some early morning bloodlust going on. It wasn’t like he didn’t deserve it for being rude to Mal. I might not like most of the women he had hanging around at various times, but I sure as hell never insulted them. “And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t insult him again.”

Reece’s mouth fell open. “Anne, the way he talked to me–”

“You’re going to go with he started it? Seriously? You don’t knock on my door at this hour and call the person that answers it an ass**le, Reece. That’s not cool.”

“Sorry.” He gave my battered old fridge a foul look.

“What’s happening here? You’ve never cared about me dating before. Not that I’ve done much of it recently.”

“Nothing. I just wasn’t expecting …”

I waited, but he didn’t finish the sentence. Maybe the subject was best left alone. “Would you like some coffee?”

“No, I’m heading home.”

“Okay. Well, thanks for the donuts.” I sat the broken box on the counter.

“No problem.” He just stared at me, his eyes a mixture of mad and sad. I didn’t really know what to do with that. Anger still gripped me.

“Reece …”

“It’s fine.”

“I don’t want this affecting our friendship.”

His shoulders pushed back. “No. Of course it won’t.”

“Good.” I don’t know what came over me, but I had to hug him. He was feeling down, I wanted to fix it. Mom had never been into the touchy-feely stuff and I’d inherited the talent, or lack of one. Accordingly, my arms were stiff, awkward. I patted him once on the back and then got the hell out of there before he could react. A surprise attack, if you will.

“How did your date go last night?” I asked.

“It was nothing special. What were you up to?”

“Mal ordered dinner. Just a quiet night in.” As soon as I mentioned Mal’s name, Reece’s face turned grumpy. It’d have been easier to empathize with him if he hadn’t reeked of sex and behaved like an entitled jerk.

“I’m going to go,” he said. “I’ll see you later.”

“Later.”

I was still standing there staring after him long after the front door slammed shut. Deep down inside, I was neither angry nor sad. Just a little shocked perhaps to find Reece cared about me in that way after all. How it would affect things, I had no idea.

When Mal reemerged it was with his long hair slicked back. The blond was much darker when wet and the angles of his face were displayed to perfection. He’d put on a pair of jeans and a soft-looking, worn old AC/DC T-shirt. But his feet were bare. His long toes were lightly dusted with hairs. Neat, square nails.

“Coffee?” I asked, already pouring him a cup. It gave me a solid excuse to look away from his apparently fascinating toes. What was it about bare feet?

“Yeah, thanks. Your little hipster friend gone already?”

I set his cup on the counter and he started piling in sugar from the canister. One, two, three heaping spoonfuls. All his energy had to come from somewhere, I guess.

“Reece left a while back,” I confirmed, picking through the chunks of donut. Delicious.

“Hard not to think less of you there.”

“Why?”

Mal took a sip of coffee, eyeing me over the rim. “You like the douche. You like him a lot.”

I filled my mouth with food. Such a great excuse for not answering. If I chewed really slowly it could kill the entire conversation.

“Even with you giving me crazy eyes, I could tell,” he unfortunately continued. “You’re just lucky I’m not the jealous type.”

I choked down the mother load of food in my mouth. “Is that why you started up with the sex adventure stories?”

He laughed, low and mocking. But who he was laughing at exactly, I couldn’t tell.

“Mal?”

“He shows up here, fresh from a night out drinking and f**king, fully expecting to find you waiting with open arms … I didn’t like it.”

“We’re just friends.”

He looked away, licked his lips. “Anne.”

The disappointment in his voice stung. I wanted to make excuses. Roll out the old standards. I wanted to protect myself. But I didn’t even know what I was protecting myself from. Mal hadn’t attacked me. His quiet reproof slipped past my guard in a way Lauren’s lectures and demands never could.

“Thing is, you’re both straight,” he said. “Men and women as friends doesn’t really work. One person’s always into the other. Fact of life.”

“Yes, I like him,” I admitted. “I have for a while now. He, ah … he doesn’t see me that way.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. He sure as f**k didn’t like finding me here.” Mal set down his cup and leaned against the corner of the faded gray kitchen counter, arms braced on either side. His damp hair slid forward, shielding his face. “Were you planning on using me to make him jealous?”

“Manipulating him and being an asshat to you? No, I hadn’t planned on doing that. But thank you for asking.”

“No skin off my nose.” He shrugged. “And he’s a douche who deserves what he gets. Turning up here, acting like you owe him something.”

I wrapped my arms around myself. “I’m sorry he was rude to you. I had a word with him. That won’t happen again.”

He snorted out a laugh. “You don’t have to protect me, Anne. I’m not that delicate.”

“Beside the point.” I took a sip of coffee.

“You know, I can live with you using me to get at him. Hell, we’re already using each other, right?”

Something in the way he said it stopped me. If only he wasn’t hiding behind his hair, I could see him better, gauge where this was going.

“No reason why we can’t milk this baby for all it’s worth,” he said.

“You’d do that for me?”

Tags: Kylie Scott Stage Dive Book Series
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