Page 148 of Unleashed

Bondo continues. “How old are you?”

I glance at Tansy, but she’s busy with her phone. “I’m twenty-nine.”

“You’re dating Tansy Delgado. How many ex-girlfriends do you have?”

My forehead wrinkles as I try to pull an answer out of my ass. “Enough?” If they count, I had two girlfriends in grade school and one for a week during my sophomore year in high school.

“Tansy told me you’re partaking in a fake marriage to help a coworker.”

I shrug and reach for my beer, gripping it so hard I might smash the glass. “Yeah. So?”

“How fake is it?”

I swallow a mouthful and arch an eyebrow, not having an answer I want to share. “Really?”

Tansy says, “It’s a genuine question. What things do you and Simone do?”

“Nothing, really. We live under the same roof until her dad leaves tomorrow.”

“Why are you faking it?” Bondo asks with an energy that doesn’t seem possible for her.

“It’s a long story, but we’re faking it so she can stay in college. Her dad is a narcissistic dickweed who will revoke her college tuition money if she doesn’t play by his rules. I’m helping her out.”

Bondo puts her elbow on the table and rests her chin on the heal of her hand. “Your fake wife’s name is Simone?”

I sigh, growing tired of this and irked they’re mentioning her. “Yep.”

Tansy puts her hand up to her mouth like she’s telling Bondo a secret but isn’t subtle about it. “I think Simone has a crush on her fake husband.”

These chicks put me on edge. I set down my bottle but then pick it back up and nurse what’s left. “We’re barely friends.” I drain it and slide the bottle to the center of the table. Peering over my shoulder, I watch Lurch Cosby and Dolly Parton Lite heading to our stalls to take their turns.

Bondo asks, “Are you in love with Simone?”

I shoot her an irritable frown. Who the fuck does this bitch think she is? “Get real. I have standards.” Can you fuck off now? I can’t keep up with all these lies.

Bondo glances at Tansy, asking me, “Did you ever want to date Simone?” Why am I fucking here?

I turn back to Tansy and Bondo. Their goddamn intrusive curiosity irritates me, and I’m less inclined to talk about my personal life, even if Tansy is part of it at the moment. “Nope.”

Bondo picks at her hot dog, tearing off the skin like a serial killer. “Have you had sex with her?”

I can’t help the annoyance creeping into my frown. “No.” I unstraddle the picnic table to make it easier to escape since this conversation is tempting me to run the fuck out of here.

Still facing me sideways, Tansy looks up from her phone. “Why not?”

I glance at her and cross my arms. “She’s not my type. She gets around. She’s too young for me. She gets on my nerves. The list goes on and on.” I throw everything I can into the mix to convince them and myself. Only one of those excuses is valid.

Eiffel Tower approaches our table. “Bandie, it’s our turn.”

“Okay.” She picks up her phone from the table and heads over.

Tansy yanks her attention away from her phone and moves closer to me. “Those answers were top-notch.”

I mutter, “I wasn’t aiming for that, but awesome.”

We’re the only ones at the table as everyone else watches Bondo and Eiffel Tower. Eiffel swings her first axe, and it hits the bullseye. Son of a bitch.

Out of nowhere, Tansy grabs my jaw, pulls me so I look at her, and kisses me. Not just a tiny kiss, but like she’s tasting my liver. I can’t help but lick her tongue because it’s everywhere. The silver ball piercing knocks against my tongue, and at first, it’s hot, but I’m soon over it when it clicks against my teeth. Still, I kiss her back because it’s a novelty I don’t see daily. And because I need to jam as many interruptions as possible into my nonstop, one-track mind.

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