Page 24 of The One I Love
“Hmph.” Another eye roll. “Well, if you get bored, I’ll be over here. I’d love a dance tonight.”
All I do is nod my head and walk over to the table. That’s the only way I know how to not be an asshole while also not leading her on. But I won’t be dancing with her. Or anyone. Not unless Amelia comes in and pulls me onto the dance floor. And I doubt that’s happening.
“There he is,” Wes says as he passes me a beer. “We were five seconds away from coming to save you.”
I tip my beer to him. “Thanks, but Simon’s mere presence scared her away.”
Simon holds up his drink. And as he promised, it’s some sort of scotch that I’m sure isn’t bottom shelf. “Happy to help.”
The table unintentionally all looks over to Emily, who of course is sitting with Christina and Jessica. They are all shooting daggers at Simon.
“What the hell did you do to her?” Wes asks.
Simon shrugs as we turn our eyes away. “I asked her to stop talking.”
“That’s it? Kind of rude, but not the worst you’ve ever said.”
“It was during sex. She was riding me, and I asked her if she could quit talking. And screaming. Her screaming is worse than her talking.”
“Are you kidding me?” I say, shaking my head in shame for both him and Emily. “You fucked her?”
“Listen, I was drunk, and I couldn’t hear her at the bar. I forgot what she sounded like.”
“You’re something else,” Wes says.
Simon proudly leans back against his chair and holds up his drink one more time. “That I am.”
I can’t help but laugh at my friend’s audacity. Then again, it’s Simon. He’s been this way since he moved here when we were in the fourth grade. And as we approach forty, he hasn’t changed a bit. If anything, he’s only gotten worse.
“I can’t believe you had sex with her,” I repeat, because I really can’t.
“In my defense, she’s had sex with everyone.”
“Not me,” Wes says.
“Well, we know not you, Mr. Monogamy,” Simon says before turning to me. “Didn’t she sound like that when you fucked her?”
My eyes grow wide. “I’ve never slept with Emily.”
“Yes, you have,” Simon says as he waves me off. “At your going-away party before you went to basic. You were gone for like an hour and so was she. She came back before you and her hair had that clear ‘I just gave someone a blow job’ look. Then you came back five minutes after with a goofy look on your face.”
I start to respond, but I catch myself. Emily’s hair looked like that because she was passed out on the porch swing. And if I remember correctly, her hair looked like that when she walkedoutside. And my goofy look was because I had just kissed Amelia for the first time. I was still high on the moment. But I can’t tell them that. I didn’t tell them then, and I sure as hell aren’t going to tell them now.
“I don’t know where she was, but it wasn’t with me,” I say.
“I call bullshit,” Simon says.
“What do you call bullshit on?”
We look up to see Porter, the owner of The Joint and cousin to Wes, standing at our table with a tray of shots. I don’t know who ordered them, but I’m not mad about it.
“That Shane didn’t hook up with Emily the night of his going-away party.”
“He didn’t,” Porter says as he leans down closer to us. “It was me.”
Our table erupts. “Seriously?” Wes asks.
Porter shrugs. “I was a horny eighteen-year-old who was tired of waiting for the girl.”
