Page 86 of How to Win the Girl

Drew reaches out to lay his hand on me, and I flinch, not wanting him to touch me. Not when I can’t wrap my brain around what’s going on.

This wasn’t supposed to happen—obviously. A clusterfuck of epic proportions—of my own doing—because I was doing my brother a goddamn favor!

Look how he repays me: coming home with the girl I’d chosen for him and taking a page out of my playbook: pretending to be me that was pretending to be him.

That shit.

I bite my tongue, staring down at the bowl of chicken and pasta, my appetite completely gone. I want to stand and storm out of the room, but I also don't want to look like a little baby who's pouting in front of his brother because he's not getting his way. Actually, comically I am getting my way. Isn't this what I wanted? For my brother to find a girlfriend so that he would be happier and not so mopey, and not so focused on school and football? So that he would have a life outside of those things?

I stay planted in the chair, listening as they head up the stairs. Listening when they close his bedroom door, only the sound of footprints above and the muffled sounds of laughter fill the air.

I wish Ryann were home.

I’d spill my guts and confess everything and ask her why the fuck I want to throw up.

Hastily, I put my dishes in the sink and throw away the leftovers. The last thing I want is to sit here like a damn fool and have to listen to their giggling and flirting. Once upstairs I throw myself onto the bed, nudging the door closed with the toe of my shoe, staring up at the ceiling the same way I’ve been doing for the past few days thinking about one thing: Daisy.

Dude, you don’t even like her.

Don’t like her?

What the fuck are you talking about, of course you like her.

No. I’m saying you like her—as in: that kiss the two of you had the other night kept you up all night afterward. Made your mind start wondering ’bout all sorts of things. Girlfriends and relationships and what it might be like to have sex with the same person.

“Great. Now you’re talking to yourself.”

Punching the pillow, I roll over, gazing at the door, staring holes through the wall to the door across the hall.

You did what you set out to do.

Did you see how happy that poor bastard was?

Yes. But it makes no friggin’ sense. How is he acting as if he’s met Daisy before? How is he putting on such a good show? I know my brother, and there is no way he wasn’t being weird when she approached him ’cause I know she did.

She thought he was you, and you’d made out with her the night before.

“During class, the silly goof kept pretending not to know me.”

No shit he pretended not to know you—because he didn’t. Does she not see the big red flag he’s waving? Is she that blind?

People see what they want, but damn, Daisy. He isn’t me! He isn’t the dude you were dating.

I flop to the other side, then my back, picking up the remote and putting the TV on when I hear a muffled laugh.

Then another.

It’s going to be a long night.

twenty-three

daisy

Single

In a Relationship

Hungry

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