Page 12 of Dibs
“Different,” I offer. Beck laughs uproariously, bending down, her hands on her waist as she tries to catch her breath.
I touch her back. “I don’t think you’ll have to see that twit at brunch. I’m sure he’s taken his damaged pride and bruised eye home by now. Now, you can go and just relax. Cody’s on your side, by the way. He witnessed everything.”
Beck blows out a breath. “So, everyone knows we broke up.”
“Everyone knows you ended it with him because he’s slime,” I correct her. “I still can’t believe he told Cody you’re infertile. How low can you go?” I snarl as I shake my head angrily.
Beck says something I can’t distinguish because I am too busy staring at her beautiful face.
“Sorry, what?” I ask.
“Would you like some Neosporin and bandages? That’s the fourth time I’ve asked, you space cadet.”
Beck gets on her knees in front of me as I sit on the edge of the tub and she holds my hand in her warm one. She applies some ointment on the cut on my hand, blows on it to help it dry, and then puts on a bandage that probably won’t stay on my knuckle. I try not to let my breath hitch when she leans in and kisses my cheek, this time slowly enough that if I turned my head even slightly, our mouths would meet.
“Thank you,” she whispers. “I wanted to punch him myself, but I just got my nails done.”
I chuckle and take a chance, pulling her into my arms as I stand up, giving her a long hug. She smells like strawberries and every other delicious thing. “You’re welcome. He practically punched himself.”
Beck walks me out, and I slip into my room and throw on a gray suit with blue pinstripes on our way downstairs. Beck claims to have forgotten something, and she tells me she’ll meet me down there.
When I get downstairs, I glance at the trash can beside the door to the brunch and spot the seating assignment placards in it, then wonder what the hell that’s about, especially as I see we’re free to sit anywhere. Barry, who goes by Bear and is one of my closest friends, is seated at a table with his girlfriend Marissa, so I head over and take a seat with a muttered “Good morning.”
“Hear you fucked Sean up,” Marissa tells me. “The rumor is he was telling people that Aspyn is infertile? What the heck is going on with those two?”
“There’s no more ‘those two,’ because they broke up. And yeah, I punched him because he had it coming. You don’t spread lies like that about someone who’s been nothing but the best partner to your lousy ass for the last decade.”
“Respect.” Bear fist bumps my good hand.
I shrug. I’m no hero. A hero wouldn’t have enjoyed it as much as I did.
Marissa’s face lights up. “Oh, I also heard you jumped in last night when yourfriendAspyn was about to hook up with the hot bartender.”
“He’s not hot.” I roll my eyes.
“You’ve always had a hero complex,” Marissa tells me.
“Yeah, true,” Emmett says as he sits down across from Bear, before silence descends across the table.
“What’s going on?” I hear the unmistakable sound of Beck’s sweet, clear voice as she floats over to the table in her pretty teal dress, with my mother’s turquoise ring blinging out her finger.
“Is everyone talking about me?” Beck asks with a groan, burying her face in her hands. “What? You guys think I’m a slut or something? Yes, I almost hooked up with the bartender, but who wouldn’t? He looks like a young Milo Ventimiglia.”
“Exactly!” Marissa announces triumphantly. “They don’t think he’s hot, but I’m with you, girl. I think you would have had fun hooking up with him, and it seems like Deacon crashed your party. That’s all I’m trying to say. You’re an adult.”
“I didn’t—” I say at the same time Beck says, “He didn’t crash my party. Getting intoxicated and fucking a stranger wouldn’t have helped me feel better about the end of my relationship with Sean. Hell, I probably would’ve blacked out in the middle, anyway.”
“You had a lot of tequila, from what I saw,” Bear says. “Hell, fine. I admit, I’m the one who saw you throwing back shots with the bartender and then leaving with him and mentioned it to Deacon. I’m sorry about that.”
“You did? Why?” Marissa demands to know, glaring at Bear.
“Someone had to look out for her—” Bear starts.
“It’s fine, thanks. He stopped me from making a mistake, which I appreciate. How about we move the hell on?” Beck suggests with a dolphin smile and raises her eyebrows high as if she’s defying anyone to disagree with her.
“Listen,” Marissa says. “It’s all about what you want to do, my friend. And if you want to do the bartender, nobody should stop you. Oh, he’s filling up mimosa pitchers and topping off Bloody Mary’s in the back if you want to say hi. It’s not too late for a hookup. You deserve it after everything Sean put you through.”
“Or I can go get her a pitcher of mimosas and she won’t even have to see him.”
