Page 13 of The B!tch List

“Who’re you seein’ at the moment?” I asked, leaning back against the countertop grateful to be able to change the subject.

He grinned and grabbed an apple from the bowl on the table. “A couple of girls.”

“You being careful?”

He bounced the piece of fruit off one forearm onto the other. “Yes. I’m not stupid.”

“You’re sixteen and you’re a guy, Austen, of course you’re stupid. We all are at that age, once.” He then rolled the apple along his arm, but before it hit his hand, I snatched it up and took a bite. “The book I lent you help?”

He huffed out an empty laugh, the sort we all did when Dad cracked one of his ‘funnies’. “No, not really. All those notes in the margins were stupid.”

“They were not,” I argued with my mouth full of apple. “Never known me not satisfy a girl.”

“Well, I didn’t use them. I got expert help elsewhere.”

“I thought you said Carter and Hunter were no help at all.”

“I didn’t get it from them.” He frowned and shook his head. “Not quite sure how Hunter managed to bag Ellie and keep her ifhisnotes were anything to go by.”

Austen’s cheeks reddened, clearly he hadn’t recovered from his crush on Ellie.

“Who offered their great words of wisdom then?” I asked.

“Minnesota,” he replied, smiling big and wide. “He told me about this thing where—”

“Okay, okay, I don’t want to know.” And I really didn’t. Like I gave a shit how Nancy’s ex had satisfied her, and more specifically satisfied that magical thing she had in her panties. Instantly the thought ofthatcreated a shift in my own underwear and I quickly pictured Mrs. Callahan from the gas station in my head to help calm down the beginnings of a boner.

“Honestly, Shaw, it’s amazing,” Austen said, his eyes bright and excited. “The girls go wild for it. It’s like a routine of certain moves. It goes, figure of eight, figure of eig—”

“Austen, no!” I snapped, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I’ve had no complaints. I don’t think I need to change my methods now.”

“But there’s more to it than that. You do four figure of eights and then it goes stab, stab, stab, repeat. It’s awesome. Every freaking time.”

My brother looked more than pleased with himself, but I couldn’t say it sounded great to me. I mean… figure of eight, stab, stab, stab. What the actual fuck?

“Well, I thought you’d want to know,” he continued as he reached for the apple that I no longer found appetizing.

“Why the hell would I want to know that?” I threw my hands in the air in protest.

“Because Minnesota said it made Nancy go wild. Figured you’d want to know as you two are having sex…” He shrugged and then left the kitchen.

A couple of things struck me at that moment, both troublesome.

How the fuck did my brother know I’d had sex with Nancy?

Why did I want to punch Minnesota in the mouth for disrespecting Nancy by telling a kid what pleased her in the sack?

Damn it. I was in a shit load of trouble either way!

After looking at a face full of spots for three days, I decided to treat myself with a facial. Luckily, Bronte had an opening at her salon, so that was where I was walking to when I spotted Shaw kissing Ruthie Grey. It was a little PDA for my taste—it looked kinda like he was using his tongue to mine for diamonds at the back of her throat. All he needed was a helmet with a lamp attached and he’d have been good to go. As I drew level with his car, which they were leaning against, I also heard the amount of fluid involved and it was a lot. There was squelching and lip smacking and it was nothing short of gross. Funny though when he kissed me, it was kinda perfect, which was annoying. I so wanted him to be crap in the sack and less than stellar at kissing, but he wasn’t.

Ignoring them, I crossed over the road and almost ran into Evan Redbank, the school janitor, on his bicycle.

“Sorry, Evan,” I called, raising my hand in apology as he screeched to a halt.

“You need to watch where you’re going, missy.” He rolled his eyes, gave his bell a quick ring and then proceeded to maneuver himself around me.

He wasn’t the happiest of people at the best of times. I could gear him cussing under his breath as he rode away. Stupidly, I glanced over my shoulder, also stupidly wondering whether Shaw had seen me almost get killed by a seventy-year-old on a rickety bicycle? Unfortunately, he had. He hadn’t stopped kissing, oh no, he was still plundering Ruthie’s mouth, but his eyes were firmly on me. His hands firmly on Ruthie’s ass, but his eyes on me. Ever the adult and annoyed at myself for looking and even having a smidgen of care, I gave him a double flip of the fingers. I couldn’t see properly because Ruthie’s head was in the way, but I was pretty sure the stupid idiot was grinning. When he lifted a hand from her ass and then flipped me off, I knew he was.

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