Page 118 of Burning Embers
He thinks I’m a bitch? Then so be it.
I think it’s time he sees how truly bitchy I can be.
Forty
IZZY
“Guys are stupid,” Desiree laments as she shoves another spoonful of mint chocolate chip ice cream into her mouth.
“Tell me about it.”
No one was more surprised than me to see the Queen Bee herself waiting at Hale’s house when I arrived home from work. She held up a bag that she deemed held all of the “essentials”—which translates to ice cream, ice cream, and more ice cream.
When I asked her why she was here, she looked at me with a sly grin and declared, “I had a feeling you could use some girl time.”
Now, the two of us sit on the couch in the basement whileMagic Mikeplays on the flatscreen TV before us. But even Channing Tatum’s rippling muscles and gyrating hips can’t elevate my sour mood.
“I can’t believe Ashton called you a bitch,” Desiree says with a scowl. She begins to lick at her spoon, making sure to capture every last drop of ice cream. “I always knew he was an asshole, but that’s too far, even for him.” Abruptly, she smirks and nudges me with her shoulder. “Want me to kick his ass?”
I try to picture five-foot Desiree going against six-foot Ashton and can’t help but chuckle. Mainly because I have the distinct feeling Desiree would win that fight.
“Tempting…” I take another huge mouthful of chocolate chip cookie dough—my favorite flavor, though Desiree couldn’t have possibly known that.
“I wouldn’t take Ashton’s words too personally. He’s had a tough life, and I think that makes him afraid of letting people in.” Desiree doesn’t even bother to glance up from her carton as she speaks.
Jealousy arrows through me at how casually she talks about Ashton. As if she knows him. As if she talks to him. As if they’re more than just friends. As if they’re?—
What the fuck am I thinking?
Am I really jealous of Desiree and Ass-ton?
Nope. Definitely not. That’s insane. I hate him.
Desiree continues on. “After his mother and fathers died, he kind of became a shell of his former self. He didn’t really let a lot of people in, you know? And then his brother left?—”
”Wait, wait, wait.” I wave my spoon back and forth in the air to emphasize my point. “Back up. Did you sayfathers? As in plural? Multiple? And Ashton has a brother?”
A mischievous grin tugs up Desiree’s lips as she positions herself so she can sit more comfortably on the couch. “You didn’t know? Ashton had one mom and multiple dads. They were in a poly relationship.” She pauses, licks her lip, and then adds, “That dynamic is actually pretty common around here. Does that…interest you?”
“What?” My voice comes out as a high-pitched screech. I cough, clear my throat, and then try again, working to modulate my volume so I don’t sound like a strangled hyena. “I mean…what? What?!”
Real articulate, Izzy.
Desiree’s smirk only broadens, unveiling perfectly white teeth. “I see the way you look at Emery and Ethan…”
“What way? I don’t look at them in any way. I don’t even look at them.” I can’t seem to stop babbling. Flames engulf my cheeks, and I suddenly can’t meet Desiree’s all-knowing, penetrating gaze.
“So you never thought of being a meat in that twin sandwich?” Desiree asks candidly.
“DESIREE!” Oh my god. Kill me now.
Seriously.
Just kill me.
I’ll even provide the knife.
Desiree begins to cackle like the evil Witch of the West. I grab the nearest pillow and whack her across the face with it multiple times.