Page 33 of Thirst Trap
13
Jake
“Hey, Officer Sexy, looking good tonight.”
I try not to audibly groan when I hear those words. And not because it’s someone calling me Officer Sexy.
It’s because they are coming from the mouth of Krystal Shaw.
All I wanted to do was grab a bite to eat and a beer after spending the last few hours getting everything ready for Whitley to arrive tomorrow. And now I have to deal with the town bicycle.
I know that’s not very gentlemanly of me to say. But I’m never one to not call a spade a spade. I don’t know what it’s like toride the rideper se. But Knox does. He doesn’t regret much, but he regrets that drunken night after the summer festival when we were twenty-two.
“Why are you calling me that, Krystal?” I ask, making sure not to turn on my barstool. That would give her an opening, and I’ve been around long enough to see her in action. When she wants something, she’s a woman determined.
“Isn’t that your name now?” she asks, and I can feel her scooting her barstool closer to me. That and I’m immediately flooded with the smell of her perfume that makes me want to gag.
“Krystal, I’m still the same Jake you’ve known since first grade. Nothing has changed.”
“But you’re famous now! All these years I’ve known you and I hadnoidea you could move like that. And here I was chasing after Knox when it turns out you are the one who has moves for days. I’d love to see them sometime.”
She takes her finger and slowly starts moving her fake nail up and down my arm. Even if I wasn’t with Whitley, I would still have the exact same reaction—utter disgust.
“Krystal, I’m not interested.”
Either she didn’t hear me or doesn’t care—I’m going with the latter—as she stands up so she can wrap her hands around my arm and press her chest to me.
“Why not, Officer Sexy? I want to know if you move like that without your clothes on.”
“He does.”
The third voice throws me off for a second because I don’t know what’s happening right now. I swear that’s Whitley’s voice. So either she is here early and somehow found me here, or I’m going insane.
I turn my barstool around, and there she is, in the beautiful flesh, my Whitley.
And she looks pissed.
“And who are you?” Krystal says, letting go of my arm so she can go toe-to-toe with Whitley.
“I’m Jake’s girlfriend,” she says, hands now placed on her hips. “Now, I don’t want a fight tonight. And he did ask you nicely to let go of his arm. So why don’t you be a dear and leave us alone.”
Whitley’s twang is stronger than ever, and I’m pretty sure she’s going for passive-aggressive southern woman mean, which in my opinion is the scariest kind of mean.
I should know; that’s my mom in a nutshell.
“Jake, who is this bitch?” Krystal asks, clearly not understanding what’s going on here. I don’t even have a chance to answer.
“Oh bless your heart,” Whitley says, and yup, there’s nothing quite like getting cut down by a southern woman.
Whitley doesn’t yell back. Instead, she walks up so close to Krystal you’d think she was whispering in her ear. She’s so close and is talking so quietly I can barely hear her.
“Sweetheart, you have no idea who you are talking to. And you certainly should not be callingmea bitch. I mean, I’m not the one throwing myself at a man who clearly does not want you. Now, I’m going to ask you one more time, real nicely, to get away from Jake and take your trailer trash, fake tit self away from here. And if I catch you hanging on him again, I’m going to make sure everyone here sees first-hand what you look like without those trashy hair extensions. Do I make myself clear?”
Krystal takes a step back, looks at me, then Whitley again, who is now wearing a smile so big you’d have no idea that she just told this girl off.
“Whatever,” Krystal says, grabbing her purse off the bar. “She’s not even that pretty. Call me when you’re done withher.”
She turns on her heel and storms out of The Joint. As soon as she steps out, a round of applause I’ve never heard comes roaring from inside.
