Page 40 of Brazen Deceits

They both said they were fine with keeping things casual, with me dating both of them. Walker knew I didn’t just careabout him, but that I was falling for all of them, even if it didn’t make sense. And he said he’d try.

Is this what trying looks like? Because this isn’t what I’d imagined.

And if last weekend was just growing pains, did I ruin it by being with Jansen right afterward? When did my life get so complicated?

Pulling the package of napkins from under the station, I refill the dispensers as I wrestle my thoughts onto a different path. I wish RJ were here. I don’t know why, but talking to him would help. Or would it make things worse? Does he know I’m into all of them? I haven’t said anything to him—or to Trips—about my plan to collect them all.

I don’t want to scare them away. But is not talking about it making it worse? Is it like keeping a secret? Am I lying to RJ and Trips by not cluing them in? I haven’t even made it past occasional touches with either of them at this point. I’m probably overthinking things. But if I’m not?

If I’m not, I’m going to fuck things up worse than I already have.

Well shit. I need a drink.

And not the caffeinated kind.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Emma asks as I drape myself over her shoulder, stumbling up the walkway.

I nod, but the world wiggles and I find myself inexplicably lying on the lawn in front of the house. On my back, withEmma rotating gently above me, the streetlight behind her giving her a hazy halo, I burst into giggles.

Emma giggles too, trying to haul me to my feet, but I seem to be made of wet noodles, and the yard is my cook pot. She stumbles down next to me, and I snort.

“Friend cuddles!” I roll on top of her, squeezing her hard.

She shoves me off her, laughing. “Stop groping me, you tease.”

I sigh, resting my cheek on her chest. “I like friend cuddles.”

Her bundled arms wrap around me, both of us quiet, happy to just chill on the ground in front of my house like the drunken idiots we are.

After a minute, Emma stands up, her pink hair a mess of leaves and sticks. Whoops. My bad. “I’m not going to be able to move you, am I?”

“I might be a couch. One of those heavy ones, you know? With the bed inside? What are those called again?”

“A hide-a-bed. I’m going for reinforcements.”

“Don’t leave me!” I squawk, trying to scramble after her and failing miserably, as the world twists again, this time hitting my stomach.

Oh no.

I let gravity win and sprawl onto my back. Hot. I’m hot. I struggle to unzip my jacket, desperate for a cool breeze. Only, my fingers keep grabbing the wrong parts of my coat.

Big hands knock my flailing fingers away, and my coat is magically open, the cool night air immediately making me feel better. “Air is nice,” I say, staring up at the night.

“How fucking drunk is she?”

I know that grumpy voice. It’s mean, but nice, but it confuses me. Like pudding. Is it a liquid? You eat it with a spoon. But it’s all lumpy too, and you can bite it. Mmm. Pudding sounds nice.

“I’d say really, really drunk.” Emma. That’s Emma. I love Emma. She’s great. Amazing. Wonderful. Bestest bestie ever.

“Yeah, I love you too, babe. I’m leaving you in Grumpy’s hands. Call me tomorrow. I want to hear all about your killer hangover.” Emma leans over, kissing my cheek before disappearing.

“Wait! Don’t leave me!”

Something big and warm scoops me up and I forget what I was so upset about. This is nice. Smells like mint and money. I don’t know what money smells like, but I think it’s this.

A happy rumble cuts through my thoughts, so I rub my cheek against the sound, glancing up, trying to figure out what’s going on. A bright light stabs my eyes, and I groan, burrowing my head back against the warm, nice-smelling thing.

When I next open my eyes, I’m in my bed, the nice-smelling thing moving away, and I latch on.

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