Page 88 of The Hookup Type

February 2016

I sentanother round of obnoxious honking from the wheel of my Jeep. Bryson said he would be ready in ten minutes—seventeen minutes ago.

A girl wrapped in a long cardigan and matching hat shot a look of disgust my way. Her arms were crossed, and she looked miserable having to walk outside in the cold. I cocked my head in her direction, and a shy smile crossed her face. Bryson emerged from the building exit, and her eyes widened. Her eyes flicked from me to him before she darted inside and shut the door behind her.

Bryson smiled on his way to the car and laughed when he opened the passenger side door. “What did you do to that girl?”

I shrugged. “I looked at her.”

Bryson shook his head with a grin still plastered on his face. “You’re a cocky asshole.”

I checked my rearview mirror. “Okay, kettle.”

It was only a five-minute drive to Wings Over, one of the greatest places to ever exist in Bowling Green. It was a small franchise that opened up last year, and the town went crazy for it. Back home, Charlotte didn’t have anything that compared to the wings here. Bryson and I got their food at least once a week.

A few groups of people were ahead of us when we entered the shop. It was a little after four, so most people were done with classes for the day. It was also Wednesday, and I knew Bryson and I couldn’t be the only ones who needed a little motivation to finish the week. I had some extra push since I had dinner to look forward to at Maci's on Thursdays, but until last week I hadn’t had that for a while either.

“J.” Bryson bumped my arm, and I snapped out of my daydream. “Didn’t you bang that bitch?”

I peered at the line in front of us and searched the crowd.

“Blonde with the hat,” Bryson added when he saw me struggling.

I sucked in a breath and nodded. My mouth formed a hard line, and I stared at Layla, who stood a few groups up from us. I thought back to how Maci walked in with Bryson that night and the look on her face when she saw me with Layla.

“Worth tapping again?” Bryson smirked at his phone screen and glanced up to see my reaction.

I shrugged and shot him an amused grin. “We’ll see.”

“Next in line!” The cashier yelled, and the entire line shifted up a few steps.

Bryson let out a frustrated sigh and shoved his phone into his pocket. I watched his mouth form a hard line, and his eyes narrowed on the person in front of us.

“What’s up?” I chuckled. His face went from stoic to aggravated to confused in seconds.

He shook his head and dragged a hand down his face. “I usually hook up with that girl from your class on Wednesday, and today she’s giving me a hard time about it.”

“What do you mean a hard time?” I turned to face him, genuinely interested in how Maci could be screwing with him. It was too good to be true to think she was losing interest in him.

“Usually, I just text her, and she invites me over. But today, she’s going back and forth with me about how she might not have time.” He shook his head like he was trying to process the situation. “But then she suddenly has time if I bring her food.”

I laughed, and Bryson looked annoyed it wasn’t me in the situation. I didn’t waste time delving into the irony of that.

“Just bring her some food,” I suggested, gesturing toward the menu. “All girls love Mustang Ranch.” I had ordered Wings Over with Maci before and knew it was her favorite.

We got to the front of the line and were called to order. I saw Layla out of the corner of my eye. She was staring at me from a nearby table, waiting for her food to be done. She leaned in to whisper something to her friend, and they both looked over in my direction. There was no way she didn’t recognize me—we had just slept together last week.

As soon as I completed my order, Bryson started his. I grinned when he asked for an order of boneless Mustang Ranch, and he shoved me in the back. We both laughed, and the cashier was anything but amused with our hold-up of the line.

“Anything else?” The cashier printed off our receipt before either of us could answer. Bryson shook his head and took the paper.

We took a few steps to the right and joined the smaller crowd waiting for their food. I pulled out my phone to look busy so that Layla wouldn’t come over. My plan immediately failed, and I watched her cross the lobby to where Bryson and I were standing.

“Jaxon,” she stated, forcing me to make eye contact with her.

I grinned politely and pointed at her. My eyes narrowed, and I cocked my head—giving off the impression that I had no idea what her name was. It was a classic move Bryson and I made.

She smiled and shook her head. “Don’t act like you don’t remember me, you jackass.”

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