Page 26 of Rooster

"I spent the entire evening with him. What are you talking about?"

Her eyebrows shoot up almost to her hairline. "Aren't you talking about Twisted?"

I want to pull my hair out. I know the guy has some sort of crush on me or something, but other than being nice to him, I haven't done anything to encourage him.

He was very kind the night of the party, helping me to the SUV, talking calmly and assuring me I was safe, but past that, there's nothing. Of course, he's good-looking, but being around handsome men isn't new for me. I'm not going to jump up and down and clap like a giddy schoolgirl because some handsome man watches me from across the room.

"You're talking about Rooster?"

"Robert," I correct, watching her face transform into worry and concern before she turns it back to something a little more passive.

"What?" I snap, rolling my lips between my teeth in an attempt to get my irritation under control. "Sorry."

"Is this concern why you're all out of sorts this morning?"

"It might be," I say, trying my best not to give it more power than it already has.

It's absolutely ridiculous that the idea of a guy not finding me attractive or showing any interest in me makes me want to pull my hair out and break things. And if I dig deep enough, I'm certain the urge to do all that in the first place is some kind of giant red flag for any therapist.

She holds her breath as she watches me. I can already tell by the way her face transforms that she's going to say something I don't like, but leave it up to my best friend to be brutally honest, even when it's the last thing I want.

"I get that you like to have fun, and men are sort of disposable for you—"

"Wow," I mutter.

"But this," she says, continuing as she swirls her finger to indicate the house. "Is not the place for you to pit one man against the other. These men—"

"What? That's not... I don't do that."

She tilts her head to the side, and I recognize the challenging look on her face. "Really? I can think of two, no three times for sport you had men competing against each other for your attention."

I lick at my suddenly dry lips.

"Okay," I concede. "I guess I have, but that's not what this is. I swear."

I consider what I know. Twisted does like me. As much as I know Robert hasn't done things to show he's interested, Twisted has done them a hundred times. I knew he was watching me last night. Robert even asked me about it, but I have no control over how someone else feels. I've given Twisted no reason to think I'd be interested in him unless he has a thing for vulnerable women. And what happened at my house the other night made me a prime candidate for his affection.

If that's the case... gross.

"Maybe this isn't the time to get tangled up with anyone," she suggests.

I know she's trying to be helpful, and maybe if I wasn't feeling some sort of way about Robert acting like I was his sister and not a viable person to fool around with, I might be able to see her reasoning.

But that's not the case, and her words sting.

"I can control myself, Kaylee. It's not like I'm going to get angry because I'm not getting fucked every night."

She raises an eyebrow at me in challenge, and the look on her face is so fucking comical that I literally huff a laugh.

I did throw a mild tantrum this morning over an orange juice bottle, after all.

"That's sage advice from someone getting dicked down multiple times a day."

"I'm not," she argues, but her cheeks pink and her hand suddenly becomes very interesting. "How would you even know that?"

"That man," I say, pointing in the direction Ellis went, "looked like he was going to cry when he saw me in here. I'm nearly certain he had plans to fuck you on the counter."

She swallows as her eyes dart in the direction I'm pointing, looking a little disappointed as if she's missing out on an opportunity.

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