“I HAVE A PROPOSITION FOR YOU.” I grabbed the remote from the coffee table and plopped down next to October, who was sprawled out on the fluffy white sofa with his eyes glued to the television screen above the small fireplace.
He didn’t bat an eyelash when I strolled into the pool house unannounced. Granted, the door had been unlocked, and sometimes, like now, I forgot Scarlett didn’t live in here anymore, and I wasn’t welcome to march right in with no reason. Old habits die hard, but if he wanted to give me shit over it, I’d classify it as Landlord privileges.
“Not interested in going down on you right now. Sorry to disappoint.”
“Could you be any more crass?” My face scrunched together as I turned to look at him.
“Really? You’re going to pretend like you weren’t milliseconds away from coming on my fingers last weekend?”
Why, yes. Yes, I was.
So much so, in fact, I made up some lame excuse as to why I couldn’t attend Scarlett’s Friday night dinner last weekend. What was so wrong about pretending?
It was simply a temporary moment of weakness that never should’ve seen the light of day. Or, more technically, the dark of night.
Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy reveling in a self-deprecating joke from time to time—keeps me humble. Like the time I accidentally fell face first on the runway at Milan Week of Fashion. Humiliating? Yes. But I was modest enough to laugh at the memes that circulated on Socialgram after.
Reliving the mortification of almost hooking up with October, though? No, thank you.
I wouldn’t even allow myself the indulgence of remembering how much I liked the feel of his hands as they explored my body or how the heat of his breath against my neck as he worked his fingers in and out of me sent goose bumps down my spine.
Nope. I would not allow it. More importantly, I could not allow it. Because if I did let one teeny tiny thought slip through my brain, then that would leave the door open for me to convince myself falling into bed with him would be a rational decision.
And frankly, I’d rather bathe in cow manure than wake-up in bed next to him after a hot and heavy night of giving into horny Mae’s desires. October was already revolting enough, but add in morning breath to the mix and I would be left with no choice but to swear off the entire male species as a whole.
“Hmmmm… I have no recollection of that.”
In fact, I wished I could push the image of last weekend out of my brain completely. Making myself look like a vulnerable idiot in front of him twice in one night was mortifying in and of itself. Then add on him denying me an orgasm right as I was about to finish, and, well, I might as well wear a flashing sign over my head with ‘village idiot’ written in big bold letters.
Damn Scar for planting the seed in my brain that falling into bed with him was a good idea. I could hear her in my head now saying, “A lot can be solved with a hate fuck. Just get it out of your system.”, in her convincing tone. Just like I’d heard her say more than a handful of times in the few weeks since October rudely dropped back into our lives.
What did I just say about not allowing myself to think about this? I needed saving from my own inner turmoil at this point.
“You don’t seem to recall a lot of things,” he said with a smug smile.
I shot him a snide look.
“Need my help jogging your memory?” October leaned over to me with his eyes closed and his lips puckered.
“Stop it! I did not come here to seduce you.” I pushed against his chest and turned my head to dodge his lips. His roaring laugh boomed out through the room and I almost—almost—didn’t hate the sound of it. Which was disgusting in and of itself. October continued laughing hysterically as I pulled back my shoulders and puffed out my chest. “I have a real proposition, and it’s for a good cause.”
“What? My dick isn’t a good cause?”
“Oh, so now you want your dick involved? After the stunt you pulled last Friday? I would purposely jump out of an airplane without a parachute before I’d consider letting you touch me again.”
He gave me a nonchalant shrug. Though the widening grin on his face was a dead giveaway he’d wanted to make some snarky remark about it already happening before. Instinctively, my lips pressed together into a thin line as a pinched expression consumed my face.
“What’s that look for? Still learning how to take a joke?”
“No. There’s just an offensive insult sitting on the tip of my tongue, and I’m trying really hard to be the bigger person right now.”
“If you play your cards right, you can have something big on the tip of your tongue in a minute flat… two tops.” I followed his eyes as he looked down at his sweatpants then shot me a patronizing wink. “Just ask nicely first.”
“October! Oh my god,” I groaned, flailing my hands in the air and slumping back into the couch cushions. Okay, so maybe it was a little funny, but I refused to let it show. “Be serious with me for one second. I promise I’ll let you go on telling enough vulgar jokes to fill your heart’s desire once I’m done.”
I took a deep, centering breath before looking at him with as serious of a face as I could muster. “I would like your help.”
Those words felt like acid on my tongue.
Sickening. Absolutely, positively sickening.
“Mae Garten…” He mock choked with a devilish smirk plastered on his lips. “Asking for my help? Oh, this better be good.”
“Preposterous, I know.” I rolled my eyes, refusing to give into his dramatics. “But really, I’m in need of another male model for the charity fashion show Abel’s sister is throwing in a few weeks. All of the proceeds from the event are going to rebuild the children’s oncology ward at Miami Memorial.”
“Is this your way of flirting with me? By telling me I’m good looking enough to be one of your models? If so, it’s working.”
Was it possible to witness someone’s ego growing right in front of you? If so, I had a front row seat. Sure, October wasn’t a sight for sore eyes by any means—which was disgusting to admit now that I thought about it—but would it kill him to be a little more humble?
“If that’s your idea of flirting it would make sense why you’re celibate half of the year.”
“It boosts athletic performance. There are studies on it.”
Yeah, there were studies on it—I blame my curious mind for looking it up after he brought it up the other night at my birthday party. And all of them seemed to come to the same conclusion… that sexual activity, or lack thereof, had no effect on athletic performance.
“Mhmmm,” I hummed. “If that’s what you need to tell yourself to sleep at night then so be it. Now, back to the point, this fashion show will be good press… and you could use some of that. You know, considering the extension you were hoping for hasn’t happened yet.”
I could feel the schooled rage simmering off of him as a taunting smile cracked at the corners of my lips. There was something about getting under his skin which sent a warm rush of satisfaction coursing through my veins. In truth, that little drug of a feeling probably made-up ninety percent of the reason that I continued entertaining October’s presence. Without it, there would be no point in subjecting myself to voluntary torture.
“Just admit that you think I’m hot.”
“Mildly attractive at best,” I replied in a clipped tone while averting my eyes on the football game on the television screen in front of us.
“Bump me up from mild to moderate and I’ll join your little fashion show.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Oh no, it looks like I have plans that da—’
“Fine,” I grumbled, crossing my arms across my chest.
I wasn’t keen on agreeing with him, but right now I needed to choose my battles. And since I had to finalize the model list to send to Aera by tomorrow, my options were just about as thin as the list of men I knew who’d be willing to participate.
“Say the words,” he prodded. “I want to hear them.”
“I, Mae Elizabeth Garten, find October Calhoun to be moderately attractive,” I mumbled begrudgingly.
We turned both of our attention to the screen where last night’s game between the Las Vegas Lions and the Arizona Avalanche was coming to an end. The Lions were winning by three, but the Avalanche came in with another touchdown in the final few seconds of the game to win it all. I wasn’t well versed in football, but it seemed like quite the way to kick off The League’s first game of the season.
“You could’ve thrown better in that charity game a while back. I saw where you missed that throw to Fortune.”
Out of my peripherals I could see October twisting his head to look at me. “Watching my games, are you?”
“Again, with the vast ego.” I clicked my tongue. “If you must know, I went with Scarlett to watch Abel… you just happened to be playing too.”
“You’re totally watching my games.” He smirked. Granted, I didn’t know for certain because I refused to take my eyes off the screen to confirm, but I could sense it. Any time October felt a modicum of joy it was like an alarm went off in my brain, which was immediately followed by a laundry list of things I should do to ruin it for him.
Only this time, I was too flustered by all of this strange friendly hatred thing going on between the two of us right now that I couldn’t come up with anything worthy of saying out loud. Which was a damn shame, because I would’ve loved nothing more than to wipe the smug grin right off of his face.
“Leave me alone,” I said with a huff.
“If you need a jersey, I’ve got one with your name written on it.” He turned his attention back to the game. “Well, my name… if we’re being technical.”
“I’d rather sit through the entire game naked with every seat in the stadium filled than wear your jersey.”
“Even better.”
“Fuck off. I actually have a second proposition for you… I need you to drive me to the grocery store.”
“You’re twenty-five… drive yourself.”
“I can’t. I went to the eye doctor today and they tricked me into getting one of those glaucoma tests and now I can’t operate a motorized vehicle until lunch time tomorrow.”
Okay, so maybe that was a tiny white lie. I completely consented to it, filling out the form approving it and everything. But only because the white-haired lady with enormous, red cat-eye glasses was an exceptionally convincing sales woman. What could I say? She reminded me of my late grandmother. How on earth was I supposed to say no to her after that? Hopefully she was earning commissions, because she was missing her calling selling luxury timeshares if not.
“Not my problem. Have Scar take you.”
“Her and Abel went on a date to that Italian place they like.”
“Ahhh, is that the reason she canceled tonight’s dinner? Tell her to bring me back some tiramisu.”
“Even better idea.” I perked up. “Get this, you take me to the grocery store… and you can get tiramisu there instead.”
“What’s in it for me?”
“Aside from my pleasant demeanor and dazzling looks?” I turned to October, batting my eyelashes like an innocent angel sent from heaven above.
Too bad he wasn’t buying it.
That was one thing I hadn’t anticipated when October waltzed back into my life—him having far greater comebacks and tiny annoyances than he did when we were kids. I held in a laugh remembering all the times he used to sputter profusely until he eventually huffed and puffed away with his fists balled at his sides.
Weirdly enough, it was almost like he’d been holding this new set of snide remarks in an offshore arsenal waiting for the perfect time to use them. Frankly, I found that entire possibility a bit strange. Had he really spent the last seven years thinking up tasteless insults for the next time we saw each other again? How embarrassing for him. Especially since the only time I was ever reminded of his existence was whenever Scar brought him up in passing.
He could deny it all he wanted, but he was a boy obsessed if I’d ever seen it.
October let out an amused laugh, pulling me away from my thoughts. “If you’re trying to be convincing, you’re moving in the wrong direction, March baby.”
“Hmm, let me think about it…” I stared off into the distance like I was pondering really hard about it. “Well, since you were too afraid to show me your micropenis last weekend, that takes road head off the table.”
“I do not have a micropenis.” October rolled his eyes so hard it looked like he was having an exorcism.
A small smile cracked at the corners of my lips as I held back a burst of laughter that was threatening to break free. “Yet, I’ve found that most men who get defensive about small dick jokes… do in fact have small dicks. The ones who are well endowed usually just roll with it since they don’t have anything to hide.” The way he rubbed the back of his neck while avoiding eye contact with me created a newfound exhilaration in my chest. “Care to defend yourself?”
“You’re not going to leave me alone until you get what you want, are you?” he grumbled.
“Not a chance.”
“Get in the truck. I’ll meet you there.”
With my chin lifted high and a big satisfied smile on my face, I leaned over and placed a slobbery kiss on his cheek. “Did you know that you’re my hero?”
October wiped it off begrudgingly and I couldn’t help but let out a laugh as I hopped up from the sofa and snatched his keys off the kitchen island.
I wasn’t entirely sure what the rest of the night had in store, but something deep, deep down inside was telling me that whatever it was, it sure would be fun.
