Page 76 of Dirty Like Dylan
Liv narrowed her eyes at me as she studied me across the table. “But be warned. If he decides he actually wants you, before you’ve offered up the pussy, he’ll be cunning about it.”
“That’s probably true,” Laura concurred.
“Like a fucking leopard,” my sister said. “I’ve seen the man in action when he’s actually interested. It’s gnarly, National-Geographic-level shit.”
Laura nodded right along, making Mm-hmm noises.
I frowned, skeptical. “A leopard?”
“You ever see a leopard on the hunt?” Liv asked me.
“Maybe?”
“They stealth in, all camo’d up, just waiting for the perfect moment, then BAM!” She slammed her fist down on the table, making me and everything on the tabletop jump. “They strike.”
Laura tipped her blonde head back, peals of laughter pouring from her mouth.
Right about now, I was really glad I’d come over. You know, so I could provide so much amusement for them.
“Well, he’s not interested,” I said, slamming back some more honey beer. “This is great beer, by the way,” I told Laura, ignoring my sister’s look. I wanted to believe them, desperately. I wanted to believe Dylan might be into me.
But…
“He hasn’t even made a move, okay? Ashley came right up to me and licked my neck and stuck his hand between my legs and asked me if I wanted his cock.”
“Oh, my,” Laura said. “And I suppose the answer was yes?”
“And Dylan has done no such thing,” I finished.
My sister studied me for a moment longer, her eyes narrowing to slits. “Oh, shit,” she finally concluded. “You’re serious.”
“Um, yeah?”
“I figured you were shitting me. Like you’d already screwed them both in some dirty hetero three-way and didn’t want to admit it to me.”
“’Fraid not.”
Liv glanced at Laura. Laura glanced back at Liv and shrugged, sympathy contorting her face, as they communicated telepathically.
Liv sighed. “They like you,” she informed me, like she was breaking the news that I’d contracted some infectious yet benevolent disease.
“Sorry, Amber,” Laura added.
“Huh?” I looked from one to the other. “You lost me there.”
Liv leaned toward me over the table. “It’s like this, Amber. Usually, Dylan and Ash just toss a girl into bed with the both of them, have at her, and move on. I’ve seen it, many times.”
“True,” Laura said.
Then my sister reached across the table and took my hand, giving it a little squeeze. And it was deeply disturbing. It was a kindly-mom gesture, and although Liv had often stepped in to parent me—for better or worse—after Dad left and Mom fell apart, she’d never done that.
“They’re taking their time with you,” she said.
“Okay. Why are you taking that gentle-mommy tone with me? I’m not sick.”
“Because,” Liv said, “I’m trying be gentle here. I know how much you suck at it when boys you like actually like you back, Amber.”
I made an exasperated sound, somewhere between a groan and an adolescent protest, complete with eye roll. “How old do you think I am, again?”