Page 23 of Flaunt
“Jess set a trap of buckets of glitter all over Banks’s house,” he says. “He deserved it. That’s all I’m going to say. But Banks sparkled for weeks afterward. Sometimes he still glistens in the sunlight.”
“Fuck off,” Banks tells his brother.
I giggle. “I’ve noticed that. He came over to my old house yesterday, and I swore I saw a flurry of sparkles all over the bathroom floor.”
As soon as I say it, I regret letting the words topple from my lips. Banks nods, biting his bottom lip like he’s all too happy to jump on thehe came over to my house yesterday train.
Please, no.
“Come over here and top your pizzas, everyone,” Brooke says, oblivious to the standoff between her two dinner guests.
We all take a pan of dough and begin crafting our dinner. I make it a point to stand across the counter from Banks—just to be safe.
“Banks was at your place yesterday?” Brooke asks, adding a handful of shredded mozzarella cheese to her pizza.
I look up at the same time as Banks does. Our gazes collide.
A chill snakes up my spine at the heat in his eyes. But the playfulness in them—buried just under the fire—causes my heartbeat to quicken.
“Yeah,” Banks says, smirking at me. “I had to swing by and help her out.”
My face is hot.Surely, he won’t tell them why. I glare at him, hoping it will dissuade him from saying anything else.
In return, I get a wink.
Banks, no. “He was very sweet and helped me out of a bind,” I say, staring at him.
“Banks? Sweet?” Moss laughs. “What did you ask him to do in order to get that reaction?”
Brooke elbows him in the side. “Don’t ask questions that you might not want the answers to.”
“Oh, no,” I say, waving a hand in the air. “It was nothing like that.”
Banks’s jaw drops. “What are you saying,Sara?”
“I’m not saying anything,Banks. Only that you stopped by for platonic reasons.”
He tosses a final pepperoni on his pizza and then grabs the edge of the counter.
My God, his eyes are gorgeous—even when they’re trained on me, taunting me like this.
His dimple sinks in his cheek as he cocks his head to the side. “Maybe we should tell them why—just so they’re clear.”
My chest shakes as I hold back a chuckle. “Don’t you dare.”
“What if I do?” he asks, holding my stare. “What are you going to do about it?”
“The question you need to ask yourself is, are you prepared to handle what I’ll do about it?”
He chuckles too. “Is this anything like the time I kept skipping your sucky-ass songs in the car on the way to Orlando?”
“That wasn’t funny, Banks.”
“You sure? Because I laughed.A lot.”
I try desperately not to smile at him, but it’s so hard.
“Let’s take our pizzas to the lanai and get them in the oven,” Brooke says. “The sooner they get in there, the sooner we can eat and I’m starving.”
