Page 12 of Fluke
Banks shakes his head slowly. He senses the trap our brother is laying for him but knows it’s too late to avoid it now.
I sit back, crossing my arms over my chest, and enjoy the show.
“She was going to hose down the house this evening. She spent an hour looking for her power washer,” Foxx says.
“Why’d she do that? I took …it. Shit.” He takes in our smug grins and holds up a finger. “It’s not like that.”
“Oh, Banks,but it is,” Foxx says. “The only thing you give anyone is a fucking headache.”
I snort.
“Well, how about this,” Banks says. “I have a proposition, and Jess won’t even hear me out.”
“Banks, Foxx would rather talk about his emotions than listen to your proposition.”
“Accurate,” Foxx says.
“You guys are mean,” Banks says.
Foxx crosses his arms over his chest and peers down at our brother. “If you need to be coddled, go see Mom.I’m not the one.”
“I expect this fromyou,” Banks tells him. “I just thought maybe Jess would be in a more amicable mood tonight since we ran into Pippa Plum.”
The relief the alcohol has afforded me is gone. In its place is a tension that makes it hard to sit still.
Knowing she’s back in town—less than ten minutes away regardless of where she lives in Kismet Beach—fucks with me. It’s like there’s a magnet hidden in town, and I can’t rest until I find it.
I’m thrown back into the cycle I find myself in every time I encounter Pippa; it’s been this way since I was a teenager. I see her, talk to her, spend a few minutes with her, and suddenly, she’s all I can think about for days. If I’m seeing someone else casually, I lose interest—which I know is wholly unfair to them. But I can’t help being the asshole secretly wishing I was with Pippa instead.
At least I’m not enough of an asshole to stay with someone else while thinking about another.
The memory of Pippa has ruined more than a few good hookups.
“I remember her,” Foxx says. “Short. Brunette. Highly intelligent.”
Banks snickers. “You are the only person in the world who gets three adjectives to describe Pippa, and you chooseintelligent.”
“I’m with Sparkles on this one,” I say.
Short, brunette, intelligent.
Funny, sexy—exceptional.
“You two are heathens,” Foxx says. “There’s more to women besides their cup size and hip measurements.”
“True. But none of us know if she can suck a dick,” Banks says.
My jaw clenches.
“You’re a disgrace to our family,” Foxx says.
Banks laughs. “No, I’m not. I was just seeing how pissed that would make Jess.”
“Regardless of whether it would piss off Jess,” Foxx says, “it’s inherently rude. Please, grow up.” He turns to me. “I’m stopping at Shade House for takeout, then I’m leaving town for a few days. Can you get my mail?”
“Sure.”
Banks peers around me. “You’re not eating in your truck, are you?”
