Page 8 of Bad Behavior

Evie turns bright pink. “Yeah. Just… I’ll talk to you later. And Jameson, I’ll see you later this week.”

“Sure,” he mumbles, unconcerned with anything except his coffee cup. He manages to drain most of it, despite the fact that I didn’t offer him milk or sugar yet.

Evie slips out of the kitchen. I pour myself a cup of coffee. Even as I inhale the scent gratefully, Jameson stands up and sets his cup in the sink.

“I should go,” he says. “Thanks for… you know.”

“I think of myself as your savior,” I say, teasing. “Without me, you’d be waking up with allllll kinds of body aches right now.”

One corner of Jameson’s mouth lifts. “If only you could do something about Asher.”

“That’s too much to ask, even of me.” I’m joking, but only partially.

He shakes his head, looking down. Brooding, as always. He’s so damn good looking, it’s kind of hard to watch him.

“I’ll see you later,” he says. And then he’s off, finding his own way out of my apartment.

I sip my coffee, burning my mouth a little. The bitter taste makes me pull a face, and I set my coffee on the kitchen counter. I’m pulling a gallon of milk out of the fridge when Evie comes back.

She’s changed out of the teal dress, but her hair is still a complete bird’s nest. I glance at her.

“Change your mind about coffee?” I ask.

“Nope,” she says, shaking her head. “I heard him leave. Now I want the scoop! What the hell happened?”

I might have gotten drunk and confessed my love for Jameson a few times since we’ve lived together.

“With Jameson?” I ask. I sigh dramatically. “Nothing. He was drunk. He couldn’t go home. I saved him from a night of sleeping in one of the booths at the bar, that’s all.”

She arched her brows, the very picture of disbelief. That face of coy skepticism is how I know that she was born with money. My mother and her friends used to do it all the time.

“That’s it?” Evie says.

“That’s it,” I say. I hold up my right hand, with two fingers pointed up. “Scout’s honor.”

“Mmmhmm.” She doesn’t look altogether convinced. Evie opens the refrigerator and pulls out a bag of baby carrots.

“Should I even ask where you’ve been?”

She blushes. “Me? I haven’t really been anywhere.”

“That’s not what your sex hair is saying to me right now,” I say, gesturing to the hair she’s unsuccessfully attempted to pin up.

Evie munches on a carrot. “I take the fifth on that one. Anyway, I have to go crash. I desperately need sleep.”

“Mmhmmm,” I say to her retreating back. She waves a carrot in the air as she disappears out of the kitchen.

I check the time on my cell phone, and then hurriedly gulp down my coffee. I have a Constitutional Law study group soon.

I rush to the law library ten blocks from my house, but I find that it’s impossible to concentrate. I blame the material, honestly.

Why study about what John Locke said about the law when I could focus on much more fascinating things? Like Jameson’s full frontal nudity in my bedroom last night.

I may not know a ton about penises, but his was… definitely intriguing, to say the least. Long and thick, but also delicately pink.

Like the man himself, I wouldn’t even know what to do with it if I get my hands on it. That didn’t stop me from daydreaming about it though, did it?

The day goes by fairly quickly in that manner, and before I know it it’s the afternoon. When I am finally done not-really-studying at the law library, I pack up my books and head to Cure.

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