Page 111 of Stroked Long
Paisley and Melony exchange glances. “She’s kind of creepy.”
“Kind of creepy?” Melony counters. “Paisley is just being nice. Pocket is a weirdo. I want to feel bad for her, given the type of abuse she endures from Bellini on a daily basis, but I’m almost positive she thrives off it.”
“Sounds about right,” I say. “If I get scared in the middle of the night, can I room with you two?”
“We demand that you do.” Melony puts down her menu and points at me, her eyes as serious as ever. “Listen to me, Ruby, if at any point of time you wake up with Pocket staring at you, you don’t say one word to her, you just grab your stuff and come share a bed with us, okay?”
I nod. “Thanks. I’m pretty sure that’s going to happen.”
Paisley pats me on the hand. “Yeah, I’m not going to argue with that.”
The waiter takes our order, which consists of us asking a thousand questions, the waiter not understanding us, us not understanding the waiter, and finally all settling on the soup that we’re praying doesn’t have any random meat in it.
“I’m so excited to watch the races tomorrow.” I’ve kept my phone close by so I can check in on Bodi. He made it easily into the semi-finals without breaking a sweat, something I wasn’t worried about.
“Me too,” Paisley lights up. “Just sucks that we have to watch it with Bellini. I have a feeling she’s going to be a real pill about it.”
Melony nibbles on a piece of bread. “She’s a real pill about everything. You know,” she reflects, a longing in her eye, “if I wasn’t desperate for this job and its pay, and afraid of destroying my reputation, I would shave a chunk of hair off Bellini’s head. Maybe a reverse Mohawk. I would have no qualms about it.”
“She would be like Regina George fromMean Girls. You could do something terrible to her and no one would be none the wiser, as they would all just do the same thing,” Paisley says, sipping her drink.
Not even paying attention to Paisley, Melony adds, “Then I would take her shaved hair and stuff it down that nasty trap of hers.”
“Now that’s something I would like to see,” I say, laughing at the image in my head. “Pocket would come to her rescue.”
“Or Pocket would sprint for the razor, cut off her hair, and imitate the nasty wench,” Paisley says, making us all laugh.
“How did we get here?” Melony shakes her head. “I mean, are we really that desperate that we have to follow around this horrific human being because we need money and have nothing better going on for us?”
Staring at each other, silence falls between us as we all think about Melony’s statement. At the same time, we start laughing and nodding our heads.
“Pretty much,” Paisley says.
“Money is nice when you have bills to pay,” I add.
“I like pretty things.” Melony shrugs. “So sue me. That Pothead Pizza bank is making it that much easier for me to buy them.” Pothead Pizza is the sole reason Bellini is rich, that and her father getting humped on national television.
“At least we are all on the same page about her being hideous. I would die if you two actually liked her,” I say.
“Could you imagine?” Paisley asks. “I think her dad and Pocket are the only ones who like her. But enough about Bellini, who is ready to see some hot men in tight suits?” She claps her hands in excitement.
“I wouldn’t mind glancing around tomorrow,” I say, playing it cool. Both Melony and Paisley eye me with a knowing look, and I wonder if they know about Bodi and me. I don’t think we are telling people so I keep quiet but from their intense stares, I get the feeling they’re waiting for me to say something.
But I withhold to their chagrin.
“Melony thinks Hollis is hot,” Paisley blurts out.
“Paisley!” Melony reprimands, a blush staining her cheeks.
In all honesty, I don’t think there is one woman on this planet who wouldn’t think Hollis Knightly, Olympic diver, isn’t hot. He’s amazingly ripped and has the best set of abs I’ve ever seen on a man, even better than Bodi, and I hate admitting that but it’s true. Pair those abs with his dark scruff and short man-pony, he’s a walking sex stick diving off the ten-meter platform.
“I think he is too,” I agree. “Reese King . . . oh, and Bodi Banks,” I say nonchalantly as an afterthought, but by the look in their eyes, they don’t buy it. “Got to love waxed man chests, am I right?” I shrug and take a sip of my drink, hoping their knowing eyes turn away from me.
“Anything you would like to share with us?” Paisley asks, leaning a little more forward than I would like.
“Yeah, any certain men you want to swoon over?” Melony adds, pressing her finger against her chin, a smirk on her face.
I look between the two of them and feel myself start to wilt under their glare. I’m not going to say anything. No way. My relationship is between Bodi and me. Nope, not going to crack.
