Page 38 of Flaunt
Sara sits with her legs, muscled and tanned, stretched across the ottoman. A fingernail is between her teeth. She’s edgy. It’s as if she’s ready to spring from the cushion and burst into one of her line of questions or mini rants that I can never quite keep up with.
I shouldn’t be here.
“Hey,” I say, staying in place. “I, um, just came over here to see if I can borrow the duct tape in the back of the junk drawer by the sink.”
Ashley’s brows pull together. “How do you know there’s tape there?”
“Did you move it?” I ask.
“I didn’t even know there was tape there, Banks.”
“So it’s still there then,” I say, avoiding Sara’s gaze and heading into the kitchen.
I should’ve gone to Moss’s. My lips threaten to part into a smile.Yeah, but Sara wasn’t there.
The woman has been on my mind all day like a virus, infecting all my thoughts. I went to extreme lengths to stop thinking about her—lengths that included taking apart a transmission, calling my sister, and making a stop at the farm supply store.
Did Sara see the guy she told me she was meeting? Why was she with Becca? What is she going to do about a place to live?
Not that it’s my problem—none of it’s my problem.Still, I’m curious.
I pull open the drawer and locate the tape.
“What do you need that tape for?” Moss asks. “Also, I love how you know exactly where things are in my house.”
“Photographic memory,” I say.
“That’s not really what I was getting at,” Moss says. “It was more the ridiculousness that you know where all the things are in my house, not the impressiveness of it.”
I shut the drawer. “Well, you’re obviously looking at things the wrong way.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out.
Jess: ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?
I smirk.This should be fun.
“Guys,I gotta go,” I say.
“Wait,” Ashley says. “We wanted to talk to you.”
I glance up as my phone buzzes again. “Now is a really bad time.”
Jess: WHERE ARE YOU, YOU LITTLE RAT BASTARD?
“Can you wait just a second?” Ashley asks.
Me: I’d keep rats away, given the current circumstances.
Fucker.
My phone buzzes again, but this time, so do Maddox’s and Ashley’s.
Oh shit.
Jess: Anyone seen Banksy?
“Hey,” I say, looking up. “No one reply to Jess with—”
