Page 13 of Whiskey Splash

“You knew that wasn’t going to work out,” I counter, moving toward the door, hoping to sneak out before this becomes a lecture.

“No, as a matter of fact, Ididn’tknow it wouldn’t work out.”

“Have you met me?” I say deprecatingly. “The twin sister with the incurable case of foot-in-mouth disease? Arie, you can delude yourself into thinking I’m capable of seducing Desmond Pike the way you can, but frankly the whole thing was doomed the second I started talking about cock sizes and anal sex.”

Arie’s eyes go wide. “Well, now—!” A seductive quirk finds its way into her smile. “Thatsounds incredibly promising.”

“Trust me, it wasn’t. Maybe it sounds sexy coming out ofyourmouth, but not so for Ms. Awkward-America over here.” I shake my head and try to push past her, but she blocks the door.

“I don’t buy it,” Arie’s eyes narrow. “Explain to me why this keeps happening?” I try to shoulder my way past, but she locks her elbows and becomes the Great Wall of Tell-Me-All-The-Things.

“Um, maybe it’s because I’m a nervous freak who has no filter and says everything that flits through her mind, no matter how inappropriate,” I offer.

“Not the awkward part.” She digs her heels in. “I’m talking about the self-sabotage part.” She stares at me hard and all the hair on my neck prickles.

“I don’t know,” I shrug sheepishly, not wanting to get into it. “I’m a glutton for misery.”

“Nope,” Arie pinches me in the side like we’re twelve. “I can get you a red room and a pair of handcuffs for that.”

“Oh, thank you very much, Christian Grey.” I smack her hand away and she pinches me on the other side.

“You couldn’t handle Christian Grey.”

“Um, yeah! Exactly!” I nod, retreating back into the room, knowing she’s not going to let me go till she’s done. “That’s my whole point! Christian Grey is a fantasy—And guess what?—Desmond Pike isalso a fantasy. Oh, except for the part where he’s actually sitting in front of me and I’m acting like a nervous chump. Even if he thought I was cute, I bulldozed all possibilities when my blabber-fish of a mouth started talking.”

“You were supposed to have fun,” Arie counters, following me into the office and closing the door behind her. “Drink, flirt, get invited back to his room. You know, let loose and live a little.”

“Humiliating myself in front of a famous TV star is not my idea of fun!”

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

“Oh, but it was!” I lean against her desk and put my things down. “I understand what you were trying to do, and I know this was your version of a favor, but throwing me into the deep end with some hot TV hunk is probably the worst scenario imaginable.”

“Because you weren’t ready for it?” Arie pushes. “Or because you actually wanted to jump his bones?”

“Both!” I throw my hands up in frustration, and Arie smiles, finally getting me to admit the real problem.

“You realize, Desmond Pike is not Jeremy Vaughn.” Arie puts a hand on her hip and I almost throw the stapler from her desk at her. Anger crawls up my spine and I have to take three long breaths before I can look at her again.

“Of course I know that Desmond is not Jeremy!” I growl. “He’s worse! And please, stop reminding me about the worst mistake of my life as if airing out all my dirty laundry is going to do something other than make me feel stupid and small!”

“Jeremy was an asshole!” Arie’s eyes flare with anger, coming to my defense. “A manipulative jerk who—”

“Made me trust him and then managed to embarrass and humiliate me. I know, Arie. I was there! It was my naked photos that he spread around campus.”

Arie frowns, growing quiet, which is distinctly out of character for her, but at least it means she understands the weight of this. “I think sometimes you hide behind that.”

I shake my head, feeling small, and doing my best to push the image of Jeremy Vaughn out of my mind. It’s the only way I’ve learned how to cope with what he did—to push it away and forget him. That is, until my sister pulls one of these stunts and reminds me of just how gullible I am.

I met Jeremy in college and fell hard for him. All the cheesy romantic shit that I love, he was the king of it: flowers, dates, romantic candles. He was my first love and, foolishly, I thought he was in love with me too. But it turns out, he took pictures of all the intimate things we did together and he shared them with his friends. And then, his friends shared them with their friends, and chain-letters-gone-wild it wasn’t long before strange guys were propositioning me for blow jobs in the back of classrooms. I became known as slutty Esme who’ll rock your cock off for a box of chocolates and a pat on the head.

“What Jeremy Vaughn did to you was unconscionable,” Arie says softly. “But you can’t let him control your life anymore. That was years ago, and you deserve so much more!”

“I don’t let him control my life!” I snap back. “I never think about him unless you bring him up. I’ve learned my lesson and I’m careful now.”

“To the point of being an old prude!”

“Well, maybe that’s safer.”

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