Page 41 of Trouble in Love
Despite the warnings, history was repeating itself.
All I wanted was what I shouldn’t have.
As I wheeled into the drive-thru, my hands dangling at my legs like a true stud, a thought popped into my head. Polly had made a valid point while blowing that lollypop on the beach. Ihad been privy to only one side of the story. Despite my sister’s insistence that most people were assholes, and Evie’s certainty that Polly was the devil reincarnate, I needed to hear her version of the truth before I left.
I had planned to park my wheels in the drive-through, then sneak into the main bar where I’d watched Polly move and flirt with a confidence that made me want her even more. There I would scope her out from the shadows, only approaching when I worked up the courage, or when she busted me. But Polly, standing behind the counter in a long plaid sweater dress that barely covered her ass, black tights, and doc martens, was the first thing I saw. Her face was buried in a book, its cover featuring some guy with abs much less impressive than mine.
Wobbling to a halt, the squeak of my tire against the stained concrete floor alerted her to my presence. Slamming the book closed, she groaned. “Jeremy, we’ve been through this before. I can’t serve you on your bike.” “Oh, umm … It’s not Jeremy.”
Before she’d even looked up, her teeth sunk into her plump bottom lip, a devilish smirk forming when she did. “Howdy, Cowboy. Where are you off to all dolled up and on your big boy bike?”
“It’s not a big boy bike.” I snapped, irrationally pissed. I’d come to hear her out, and she was giving me sass? “It’s a racer. And I’m not dolled up, either.”
“You’re pretty bloody touchy, though. Now stop being a sook and answer the question.”
My scowl deepened. “If you must know, Scarlett and Finn are hosting a dinner party, and since I’m the only single loser invited, I volunteered to do the ‘pub run to the bottle-o,’ as Nate called it.”
Nodding, Polly pulled a chair out from behind the counter and tilted her head in its direction. Like the simp I was, I obeyed, sitting without question while she remained standing.
“A dinner party, hey? That sounds nice. People never invite me to those things.”
“Maybe if you dropped the bad girl routine, people would?”
She scoffed like I’d just told her the moon was as purple as that new hot streak in her hair. “Any chance of that happening sailed the minute I wronged the angel of Byron Bay. Also, don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” I knew exactly what.
“All moody while condescendingly batting your lashes.”
“I didn’t even know I could bat my lashes.” I absolutely did, and it was the best weapon in my charm arsenal. “How could I do it condescendingly?”
“You know, like this.” Once again, proving she had the upper hand and that I was royally screwed, Polly tilted her head and fluttered her long, dark lashes so fast I could barely see them.
My cock turned to stone. “Huh, hmm.” I cleared my throat, went to stand then thought better of it.I’ll need at least five minutes to get rid of this bad boy.Turning away from the sexy girl, I focused on frosted glass doors of the meters long fridges and reminded myself of the no-go zone she was at the center of.
Contemplating the extensive beer selection left us in awkward silence, the dull whir of traffic on the main road and bursts of laughter wafting from the bar the only sounds. Fidgeting in my seat, I watched her from the corner of my eye, grinning, just waiting for me to break like the damn fool she knew I was. “Why are you out here and not inside?” I asked, proving her right two beats later. “And why are you always working and not out having fun with your friends?”
For just a moment, the ice-queen mask slipped, revealing a brief glimmer of sorrow before she managed to replace it. “I don’t have any.”
That confession, and the accompanying thought of Polly being lonely took up an uncomfortable amount of space in my chest. “But… haven’t you lived here your whole life?”
“Uh-huh.”
“So, why no friends?”
Shifting on her feet, she shrugged and began fiddling with a display of bottle openers. “Dunno. Maybe I’m just a bitch?” In response to my glare, she rolled her eyes and shrugged again. “I can’t be sure, but it may be the same reason I never get invited to dinner parties.”
“What about in Sydney? You and Luna … umm. When … you know, how we met, and how she brought me here to see you. She’s your friend, at least?”
“Oh, right, Luna. The girl who drove you here. The girl whose pussy I ate while you fucked me from behind.”
Mentally adding five minutes to the boner timer, I shook my head. “Yeah, trust me. That never happened.”
“Huh. Maybe that was just in my dreams. Anyway, she’s a friend, I guess. I met her at the deaf organization I volunteer at. We party and go to poly clubs together, but she’s got herself a sexy doctor now so the whole fuckbuddy phase is done. And after bringing you here, the buddy bit might be over, too.”
There was a lot to process, but predictably, the wordspoly scenewere the ones to flash before my eyes like a busted-up neon sign. One or two of my teammates were solo poly, so I knew the basics. But still, I wanted to ask. Polly, are you poly? My cock begged for the answer, but my brain held steadfast, knowing the less I knew about Polly Hart and the sexually liberated lifestyle she chose to live, the better.
Another awkward as fuck silence descended. Polly made it more painful. “You can ask, you know.”
