Page 103 of Two Guys, a Girl, and a Tripod

Natalie nods and I place the dress in my bag.

“See you tomorrow?” Natalie asks, standing from the bed.

“Or Monday.” I blush again, but she just rolls her eyes and leads the way from the room.

“Ok, ok. The honeymoon phase is in full swing.

I can hear Natalie giggling to herself when I reach the door and I shake my head as I leave. Cold dread stops me in my tracks. The feeling of someone watching me causes the little hairs on the back of my neck to stand up and a shiver to run down my spine.

After checking between the buildings, along the side yard of our place and the neighbors in front of us, and even looking over the fence, I decide it’s my imagination. It has to be. Caleb wouldn’t be out here watching me in broad daylight. Although, he kicked our door in before the sun was fully down, so maybe I don’t know him as well as I used to.

25

Miles

Vegas has been fun, but I’ll be glad to get home. The drive is just under five hours unless I hit traffic, so I’m able to make it by late afternoon on Sunday. It’s too expensive to stay a full holiday weekend in a place like Las Vegas. I just hope I don’t interrupt Brody’s fuck fest.

The thought makes me smirk as I pull into the driveway behind a familiar car. I can’t place it, but I know I’ve seen it recently. I’m still trying to figure outwhereI’ve seen it when I enter the house and freeze.

There’s a woman standing at the kitchen sink, her back to me. Her brown hair tumbles down in soft curls, stopping above the middle of her back. Gold streaks are highlighted in the sun coming through the windows along the back of the house. A sundress covered in purple and blue flowers swishes around her legs, mid-thigh, and her tawny skin is covered in black and gray tattoos. There are flashes of color in the ink here and there. I recognize some of them. I recognizemostof them.

“Sophie?” The word comes out hoarse, but she hears me and spins, her hands still wet.

“M-Miles?” Her eyes are wide with shock.

The sink is still running while she takes me in, looking as if she’s short-circuiting. Brody comes striding out from the hallway that leads to his room. The smile on his face drops when he sees the expression on mine.

“Er, Miles, this is Sophie. Sophie, this is Miles.” He speaks slowly, carefully, as if one of us might attack him or each other at any moment. While we’re silent, he leans over and turns off the faucet behind Sophie.

I swallow the lump in my throat.

Sophie is his girl. Brody is my competition.

Sophie is the woman he’s been seeing. Brody is the dick-for-brains I’m trying to make her forget.

Fuck.

He has never said her name when talking about her. Why hasn’t he ever said her name? Why haven’tIsaid her real name when we talk about her?

“We, er-” Sophie turns her head to focus on Brody. I can see the worry on her perfect face. She doesn’t want to hurt him and neither do I. “We know each other.”

“Oh.” It takes him a moment to process, but then his eyes go wide. “Oh, you mean you’ve worked together?” His cheeks flush, whether from embarrassment or anger or some combination, I’m not sure.

“Brody.” Sophie’s voice breaks. “Miles and I-”

“We’ve been on a couple dates,” I finish when it’s clear Sophie can’t find the words.

“Wait.” Brody holds up his hands, shaking his head and looking down. “Dates, you mean-?” He stares between us, hands still held high. “Oh, fuck.” The curse is a whisper and I pray it’s not one of defeat. If I hurt him, I’m not sure what I’ll do.

“Brody, I’m sorry.” I step toward him, but think better of it. Will he back off, knowing how I feel about Sophie? Should I be the one to give up? Will this even be something our friendship can survive? “I didn’t know you two were- that she’s the one you’ve been-”

“Miles, stop.” His voice is strong, but still low. He shakes his head, blinking slowly. A deep rumble of laughter starts in his chest before ripping from his throat. It’s not angry or sad–if anything, it’s a little crazed.

“You know, I didn’t think this could last.” His eyes fall on Sophie. “You’re too fucking perfect and there’s no way I measure up to the guys you’ve worked with.”

“Woah, hold on.” Sophie holds up her hands, shaking her head and scoffing. “Measure up?” she repeats and then angrily, “Measure up? Brody, my god, are you serious?”

I watch this unfold with a mix of shock, disbelief, and amusement. I’ve only seen Brody naked once by accident–he wasn’t exactly athletic in high school, so it’s not as if we saw each other in the locker room–and evenI’mimpressed with his size. Measuring up will never be an issue for him.

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