Page 111 of Fuckboy Psychos (Scarlett Force 1)
He opens his mouth to talk, pauses, mulls over his words a little more.
“Um, since last weekend?” he says, but almost like that’s a guess on his part.
I make myself take another fry, put it in my mouth, chew it.
Nisha yanks her cherry soda close and sucks on the straw so hard that Basti makes a sound of appreciation.
“You could suck a watermelon through that straw, Nish.” He says her nickname—Neesh—in a wondrous, almost worshipful tone.
She glares at him before turning that sharp expression back to me.
“First I’m hearing about it,” she adds, and we both look over at Basti.
“We’re talking, but not like we used to. She really thinks she’s got it good this time. Big rock on her finger, fancy dinners with steak and shit, getting fucked into the mattress every night. She’s in heaven over there at the Kelly’s place.”
There are so many things in what Basti just said that have me feeling homicidal.
I almost kiss Sandra when she returns and puts a tall glass with a mountain of whipped cream and a cherry on it in front of me, the extra milkshake in a cool metal cup that she places in the center of the table. Basti always says he hates these pie shakes and then ends up drinking my extra from the metal cup.
Every damn time.
“She’s living with the Kellys?” I ask carefully, thinking of the box that Aspen brought over to my house with all of my things in it. Wow. Lemon moved out of her double-wide and Basti knew about it and … I didn’t. I suck on the straw, not caring that the sound is loud and echoing. We’re the only people in here. The few other patrons at this time of day are all outside in the drive-in spaces.
“Yep. Moved in same day she got engaged actually,” Bastian says with a loose shrug of his shoulders and a sigh. He reaches out and drags the metal cup toward him, mumbling something about ruining his diet. “I tried to talk her out of it, but you’ve seen how she is recently. Even more stubborn than usual.”
Fucked into the mattress every night, huh?
I shove memories of last night as far away as I can get them. What was I thinking? I knew that asshole was bad news and yet, something about the way he threw that race made me reconsider.
I mean, I hated it. Feels like a blight on my record, but I needed information about the Cobra, if it was involved in the murder, who was driving it. In the end, it was worth it.
“This is going to end badly,” I say, and Nisha snorts.
“You think?” she queries, pausing when the front doors of the restaurant open and in walks Widow.
He pauses in the doorway, water beading on his colored hair, a deep frown dug into his handsome face. He barely looks at me before glancing down at the sign that says Seat Yourself, I Ain’t Your Mama on it. Widow moves down to the booth in the far corner of the diner and takes a seat.
I stare at him from where I’m seated, but he grabs one of the (usually) sticky menus from behind the silver napkin dispenser and stares down at it with a scrunching of his brow.
Huh.
I slurp on my drink some more and his head finally lifts up. Our eyes meet for the briefest of seconds before he drags them away again and then Sandra is blocking me with her body as she takes his order.
I turn back to my friends to see that they’re both staring at me with accusatory looks.
“Really?” Basti asks, turning to glance over his shoulder in Widow’s direction. He flicks his eyes back to me. “The new guy who put a knife to your throat?”
“I did take his car,” I explain, and Nisha just shakes her head, reaching up to rub at her temples.
“I don’t even have time for your shit today, Scarlett.”
I smile at that, leaning back in the booth and stirring my pie shake with the metal straw. My smile is only skin-deep however. I’m … upset. I don’t like being upset. I like to pretend that I don’t have feelings, that I’m nothing but pretty stolen gear and big sunglasses and cars. I’m not a human woman with a heart that can break. Too much vulnerability in admitting that.
Crushing on Widow right now is the least of my worries.
I’ve seemingly lost one of my best friends for real this time, one of my girls lost her life the other day, and here I am feeling butt-hurt that Aspen lied to me when I knew he was lying to me. Of course he’s fucking Lemon. That I should’ve expected. But the engagement? Having Lem move in with him? That’s insane.
“There’s some huge engagement party happening next Friday,” Bastian continues with a long sigh. “Apparently, Aspen took Lem to dinner and asked her to marry him, but like, they’re supposed to have a proper party with the who’s who in both cities.”
