Page 10 of Fall With Me (Sugarland Creek)

At least she’s not here to bask in the glory of my embarrassment.

Tripp chuckles as he drives us onto the street.

“Did you bring me some clothes?” I ask.

“We grabbed basketball shorts and a T-shirt because I didn’t know what classified asspareclothes,” Tripp explains.

I shrug.Good enough for me.

Wilder tosses them to me and then leans over the back of the bench seat with his arms folded as if he doesn’t want to miss the show.

I slide the shorts on first, which are too tight and not concealing a damn thing, but since I have no room to complain, I keep my mouth shut. Next, I grab the white shirt and bark out a laugh when I see the wordsTwo-Seaterwith two black arrows. One pointing up toward my face and the other pointing down toward my dick.

“Where the hell did ya find this?” I ask, putting it on.

“In your closet,” Wilder says.

Hmm. Don’t remember this shirt.

Not surprised, though, because my friends and I often borrow each other’s clothes when we need fresh ones after a night out. I probably crashed at a friend’s house and then stole it the next morning.

“So…are ya gonna tell us what happened to your clothes?” Tripp asks.

Glancing over at his shit-eating grin, I know he won’t drop it until I do.

“I met some chick last night at the Twisted Bull. She took me to her apartment, and when I woke up this mornin’, she was gone. Along with my clothes and boots.”

The Twisted Bull is the most popular bar in town. It has a full dance floor and features a mechanical bull where drunken idiots try to stay on it for eight seconds. My brothers and I have done it numerous times all while mostly shitfaced.

“Guess she was hopin’ it’d force you to stay.” Wilder laughs.

“Yeah, maybe she was gettin’ y’all some coffee or something,” Tripp adds.

“I waited twenty minutes for y’all to get here and didn’t see her car pull in, so very doubtful. I think she just wanted to be a terror.”

“Maybe it’s payback for not satisfyin’ her.” Wilder smacks my shoulder. “Need your older brother to give ya some tips? I’ve got a wicked tongue trick.” He sticks his out, then flicks it up and down as he flashes his piercing. “Or did you get whiskey dick?”

Glaring back at Wilder, I’m tempted to yank his barbell right out.

“Absolutely the fuck not. We had a great time.”

“What’s her name?” Tripp asks.

“Um…Tessa.” I swallow hard. “Or maybe…Jessa?”

“I bet he called her by the wrong name and she got even by stealin’ his clothes,” Wilder muses.

“That’s why I don’t say their names. That’s an amateur move. You call ’em baby, sweetheart, darlin’. Anything but their names.”

Tripp snorts. “Classy.”

“What? It was consensual. She liked it—no,lovedit. Pretty sure her neighbors were poundin’ on her walls because she was so loud.”

“Ah, see…when they’re that loud, they’re fakin’ it,” Wilder says.

“How would you know?” I ask.

“Because when a woman is in the middle of an intense orgasm, she’s too out of breath to scream. If they’re screamin’ that much, they’re tryna get it over with so they can hide in the bathroom and get themselves off instead.” He flashes his infamous know-it-all smile. “Or in your case, plottin’ revenge.”

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