Page 11 of Pitcher

Must I always be the voice of truth in this relationship?

“Don’t most of them give good head?” I find a piece of gum wedged in the sofa and throw it at him. It lands at his feet where he stares at it before cocking a brow in my direction. “It was a bad throw,” I supply with an eye roll. I’m not the star pitcher here.

“I guess… head is head, but her name sounds familiar. Usually I don’t remember names unless they were spectacular in some way or another.” He shrugs unapologetically.

Unfortunately, I love this asshole.

Yep, I said it. I may be mocking poor Violet, but it’s only because I’m jealous. And I really shouldn’t be jealous if she gave Theo the best head he’s ever had. Theo’s personality is an acquired taste, much like wine. The package is beautiful on the outside, but the inside is sour until it rolls around the palate for a little while. Take it from me. I’ve loved Theo Von Bremen for years. Not months.Years.I loved him before he started going to the gym and bulking up. Not after puberty. Before. Before his voice changed. Before we moved in together. Before we became best friends. Before he banged all the Violets of campus.

And it’s all been for naught.

Granted, I’ve never broached the subject of more, but neither has he, so I left it. Guys are supposed to make the first move, right?

“I got it!” he shouts, finally picking up the piece of gum and popping it in his mouth.

Ugh. Why does he have to look so damn good working that strong jaw as it breaks down that rock-hard piece of gum into something thin enough to blow a bubble with? And why must that bubble draw my eyes to his lips, pursing as if he needs kissing?

Focus, Ans.

Completely focused—okay, fine, I’m semi-focused—I loosen the grip on my tablet and narrow my eyes, bracing myself for the epic blowie story that was worthy of Theo remembering Violet’s name.

You will not get jealous. I highly doubt she was that epic.

“Violet was the journalism major that dated Reese all last year.”

Oops. Sorry, Violet. My bad for thinking the worst of you. Keep up the hard work by reporting inaccurate statistics.

“Yeah, you remember we met her at his birthday party, and she said you were a saint for living with me.” His smile morphs into a frown like he just realized she was insulting him.

Hello, Violet. My name is Anniston, and I think we just became best friends.

Not really. No girl is ever my friend. Unfortunately, I’ve always had a bff, and he has a dick. A big one. And because of said dick size and rumors of said dick size, I’m considered a threat. Or a frenemy. Same thing.

I’ve had my share of fake friends just so they could get closer to Von Bremen. I don’t even try anymore. Theo and Thad are the only friends I need. Unless Violet wants to call me. I would totally buy her a coffee.

“Violet seems like a really nice girl,” I taunt. “If she heard about what I went through last night, I think she would offer to buy me lunch today.”

Theo groans, and it ratchets up my smile.

“I mean if she—”

“Do not bring it up,” he cuts in. “Last night was your fault.” He glares at me and takes another swig before punctuating each word individually. “All. Your. Fault.”

You would think women are more easily embarrassed, but that’s not true here. In this house, the man turns red faster than I do.

“I told you not to order the fish tacos.”

“No. You said youwouldn’torder the fish tacos.”

I try to hide my grin.

“You didnotsay it gave you explosive diarrhea!”

At his outburst, my stomach clenches and I fold over laughing for the millionth time.

“It didn’t givemediarrhea,” I clarify.

“Oh no,” he corrects himself. “You said it gave Thad diarrhea the last time y’all were there.” He eyes me with a look of betrayal. How would I know it would happen again? Thad could have had a stomach bug a couple of months ago. It’s completely possible.

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