Page 11

CHAPTER 11

LAST NIGHT’S MASCARA BY brYNN CARTELLI

Brianne Archer:

I inhale deeply as I wake up in such a cozy bed. I don’t remember Dakota’s bed feeling this comfy. I also don’t remember Dakota cuddling me when we sleep in his bed… I crack one of my eyes open, realizing the cologne I smell is not Dakota’s. It’s definitely not. This person smells like… like a warm whiskey. They smell like how you might imagine a cozy coffee shop would smell… That’s not Dakota. I look at the pillow I hold to my chest. ‘Yes you can!’ it reads. Well, I obviously did… I peek over my shoulder and then my night flashes through my eyes the second I see Parker behind me.

Oh my fucking god.

Oh my absolute fuck.

I fucked my brother’s friend. I slept with my brother's freaking friend while we were both wasted and I enjoyed it… I have to leave. I need to talk to Dakota. I need to go to his apartment right the fuck now but I don’t have my car. I don’t have anything but my cell phone and the clothes I wore last night. I sit up and feel the throbbing of my head as well as the whoosh that signals I am more than violently hungover. Could this be any fucking worse?

I get out of his bed and pull my shorts on, keeping his flannel on my body for the time being. I slide on my boots and take the hair tie from my wrist to pull my hair back and out of my face. I also choke down the urge to throw up because the room is slightly spinning right now. It’s also hard to breathe when I think about last night. When I think about Parker and how he… I can’t. I can’t. I start to unbutton his flannel when he shifts in his bed and I freeze.

“Brianne?” he asks and his morning voice makes my blood pulse. He does, in general.

“I’m leaving. I’m sorry,” I tell him and he shoots up.

Regret and remorse hit my chest. I feel bad. Oh, fuck.

“What? Why?” he asks, alert now. His hair is messy from sleep but his entire demeanor is still devastating to my mental health.

“Because we slept together. Do you not remember?” I speak in a clipped tone.

“I remember every second of it. That doesn’t explain why you’re trying to leave in such a rush,” he tells me.

“Because this was a huge, horrible mistake and I should have had enough sense to not sleep with my brother’s fucking friend,” I tell him and he starts to argue despite his face dropping. “I’m not talking about this and neither are you. If we talk about it, it gets messy and if it gets messy, then Bellamy finds out and that can’t happen,” I tell him, and leave, his shirt still on my body and the rest of my clothes still in my hands.

My stomach hurts and I really have to pee. I probably look like a wreck and a half right now but I don’t care.

“Please…” The softness in his voice stops me before I walk out of the door. “Don’t leave, please. Talk to me…” He’s pleading. My heart instantly lurches at the idea of this hurting him in some way. I close my eyes tight and sigh.

“I’m sorry, Parker,” I speak softly and open the door quickly, walking as fast as I can to get out of here.

“Brianne!” Parker calls after me and I close his door behind me but I hear it open.

“Give me your keys, Xander,” I hear Parker’s voice.

“You are not driving my car,” he fights back as I make it to the stairs.

“I will give you every dollar in my savings if I even make a scratch. Keys, now,” Parker raises his voice and I hear keys rattle.

This is so embarrassing. This is so bad. I slept with Parker Thompson and it was… It was fucking phenomenal, but it was also not supposed to happen. I’m not allowed to sleep with him but I did. This was so dumb. I’ve made so many dumb choices, but this is by far the absolute worst one. A date with him was one thing. But sleeping with him? This is another level especially since we never defined what sleeping together means. Dakota said he did some digging and that Parker doesn’t usually hook up which means this could mean something more to him than it should.

“Brianne!” He chases after me, running down the stairs.

“Go away, Parker,” I say with my face turned forward.

I cringe at the tone of my voice. Jesus Christ, I’m being a bitch. I’m never a bitch. I’m not mean to people who don’t deserve it and Parker definitely doesn’t deserve it right now…

“You’re not walking to Dakota’s,” he tells me and I scoff.

“We sleep together once and you’re already bossing me around?” I ask, continuing to walk. “And who says I was going to Dakota’s?” I ask, turning over my shoulder as he follows directly behind me.

“I’m assuming you’re going to his place considering your car is there and so is your best friend. And I’m not bossing you around, Brianne. I’m not letting you do a walk of shame when you have nothing to be ashamed of,” he tells me and I cringe again. Just what I thought.

“Speak for yourself,” I tell him, walking quicker, wishing I could lose him. I wish he would just go back upstairs. I am ashamed. Ashamed that I’m the worst sister in the entire world.

“Ouch,” he mumbles and I take a deep breath.

“Go back upstairs Parker, please,” I start to beg.

“Not happening, Brianne,” he argues.

I clear the last flight of stairs, and speed walk to the doors.

“Either you get in the damn car with me or I will drive next to you the entire way. Your choice,” he tells me and I turn quickly.

“You wouldn’t…” I mumble.

“I would. And the longer we stand here the more chance someone sees us together, which is obviously what you’re trying to avoid. So, you make your choice. You’re wearing my clothes outside of my apartment.”

He paints a very clear picture and I clench my jaw. I fight the urge to scream. I’m such an idiot.

“Fine,” I grind the words out and he doesn’t smirk, he just nods his head to a very nice all-black Range Rover.

I move quickly, hoping there’s not a single peering eye that will see us together. I climb into the passenger side and he sighs deeply.

“You are so fucking stubborn,” he mumbles to himself.

I’m also sore and I feel like I might throw up… and I still really need to go pee.

I don’t reply but I do look away from him because the sight of him driving with one hand on the wheel while wearing one of those stupid fucking compression shirts makes me think maybe I was smart for sleeping with him last night. I don’t remember how it escalated to that. I do remember snippets of the events that happened in his bed last night and how good they made me feel. I thought my exes were good in bed. Parker is another fucking story. He’s an entire three book series…

“Are we going to talk about this?” he asks me and I groan.

“No. No talking, especially not about what happened,” I tell him and he chuckles to himself.

I look at him and he’s devastatingly pretty. So I look away, not giving myself a chance to stop regretting last night. I need to regret it. I need to regret him. That’s the only way to make sure I don’t do something stupid again. Or maybe I just need to sort out how all of this is making me feel and then I’ll decide if I should or shouldn’t do it again… or maybe I should talk to Dakota first and then choose what to do.

“I should have told you no,” he mumbles to himself.

I press my lips together, a slight frown hitting my lips.

“So I was the one…” I start and then sigh, not wanting to finish.

Of course, I was. Because I want him. Sober or not, I wanted Parker. I just know better when I’m sober.

“Yes, you. I wasn’t going to start anything because I knew… I knew you’d probably not want to because of Bellamy but you did it. I waited and you came onto me,” he explains and I keep my mouth shut for a second, fighting the urge to continue talking.

“Well, I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry I did it but I’m not sorry for walking away right now. I’m… I’m panicking, and this was just a downright bad idea,” I speak after a few moments of silence.

He clenches his jaw, his fist tightening around the steering wheel. He gets to Dakota’s apartment after a few more minutes in silence and I tighten my grip on my stuff. I look at Parker and once again, my chest tightens at the sight of him. He looks… Sad. Hurt even…

“I’m sorry, Parker, it was a dumb hookup and—”

“If that’s how you feel, that's fine, but speak for yourself,” he grumbles and I stare at him in the car. His hair is disheveled from sleep and his face is distraught. Am I an asshole? Am I a bad person? Am I wasting my time worrying about all of this when I need to talk to Dakota? Yes, that’s one thing I can definitely answer right now.

“I need to go,” I say, then grip the door handle and open it.

“Call me when you actually want to talk about this, Brianne,” he tells me and I ignore him, getting out of the car.

I slam the door and run to the apartment building. I get in the elevator and press the button a few times until the door closes and it takes me to his floor. My feet take me straight to his apartment. I type in the code and enter without even texting him a warning.

“Dakota!” I scream.

“Oh my god, it’s 9 in the morning, Brianne,” he groans from his open bedroom door.

“I don’t give a fuck what time it is. I’m in crisis mode. Call the fucking cops, 911,” I run into his room and there is another naked man.

I remember dancing with him but not his name. Dakota is rubbing his eyes and the other guy looks absolutely confused as he looks between the two of us. I look at the guy, then Dakota, and raise my eyebrows, waiting.

“Baby B, this is Henry. Henry, this is Baby B,” Dakota yawns and I sit on the end of his bed, ignoring the naked man.

“I slept with Parker Thompson,” I say quickly.

Dakota rolls over and sits up all the way.

“Full penetration?” he asks and I nod.

“I don’t remember all of it because we were both drunk but I do remember most of it so yes,” I tell him and his jaw drops.

“Are you sure?” he asks and I scoff.

“It feels like someone took a hammer to my vagina this morning so, yes, I’m positive. And I’m hungover and I need to pee, but more importantly, I fucking slept with Parker Thompson,” I tell him.

“Who is Parker Thompson?” Henry speaks with a groggy voice.

“Brianne’s hot football crush,” Dakota answers.

“He’s not my crush. He’s a hot guy that also happens to be my brother’s friend which is why this is so fucking bad, Dakota! Wake up! Get with the program!” I tell him.

“Oh my god, we are not back to this, are we? You said you’d go on a date with him. You were already going to give him a chance and you didn’t seem to care last night,” he argues.

“Wait, who's your brother?” Henry asks.

“Okay Henry, here’s the rundown. My brother is a senior and the captain of the football team. He is friends with Parker who is also one of the other captains, but didn’t become friends with my brother until over the summer so that’s why we’ve never met until now. I met him then and thought he was hot because he is. He made a move on me and asked me out on a date, and then I made a move on him, and we slept together and now I’m screwed. Did I mention that my brother is like my best friend?” I ask and then take a deep breath.

“You talk a lot,” Henry tells me and I groan.

“Ugh! Neither of you are helping!”

I get up and go to Dakota’s bathroom, finally going to pee. The second it burns, I stare at the wall and absolutely know for a fucking fact this is a higher power punishing me for being the worst sister in the entire world. I probably didn’t pee after sex last night. And now… Now I am almost certain I have a UTI, a hangover, sore muscles, and a throbbing vagina. I have to lie to Bellamy now. I can’t face Parker until I figure out what I want or what I’m going to say. What else? What the fuck else? I finish and still feel like I need to pee, further solidifying the fact that I probably have a UTI. I walk out of the bathroom and feel mad, defeated, and so utterly frustrated with myself.

“Can I scream?” I ask.

“Scream?” Henry asks.

“She does this. Yeah, go ahead,” he tells me, taking a pillow and covering his ears. I let out a scream and then settle into myself. I don’t feel any better—not even slightly.

“I need to go to the doctor,” I tell him and he sits up.

“Why? What’s wrong?” Dak asks me.

“I think I have a fucking UTI,” I mumble, stripping Parker’s shirt from my body.

I take a shirt out of the pile of my things sitting on Dak's floor and pull it over my head. I shove the rest of my things in my duffle. I grab my keys and my bag, slinging it over my shoulder.

“Okay, maybe that is a sign of some sort,” he tells me.

“Exactly. I’m being punished for being a slutty little whore. I’m leaving. I don’t care what your plans are later, you need to cancel because this crisis is not over, it's just being postponed. Got it?” I turn around and point at him.

“Sir, yes, sir,” he tells me, still lazily sprawled out in his bed. “I love you!” He calls out to me.

“Like a brother!” I shout.

“Like a sister!” he yells and I make it back to the front door.

I’m so fucked.

* * *

I walk into my apartment feeling exhausted, defeated, and with an antibiotic prescription in my hand for the UTI from hell. This antibiotic isn’t going to help with the throbbing headache or the fact that I threw up in the bushes outside of our building. I am not doing well, actually, I’m doing the exact opposite of that. I receive a look from Bellamy who’s sitting on the couch by himself watching Love, Simon . I stare at him, our eyes locking. I know if he knew the truth of what is upsetting me right now he could hate me. But I need my brother now and always. I’m fighting with myself, but my lip quivers, and my eyes well up.

“Come here,” he nods his head.

I scurry into the living room, ditching all my bags and things on the floor. I sit on the couch and he pulls me into him. “Tell me what happened,” he mumbles.

He speaks in the same big brother tone he always uses when I come to him, warm and accepting. I don’t deserve either right now considering I slept with his friend last night.

“I’m overwhelmed,” I admit.

“Yeah, your first week is always overwhelming. It doesn’t help that your boyfriend had a birthday and you did too. We won our first game… It’s normal, and completely okay to be overwhelmed, B.” He squeezes me tight. “What happened? To make you break?” he asks and I sigh.

I can’t tell you… but I really want to.

“I’m hungover and I don’t think I made all the right choices when I was drinking last night, Belly… I also have a UTI,” I tell him.

“How did you get a UTI?” he asks and I pull back far enough to give him a look. “Oh. Oh… Ew,” he scrunches his face up and shoves my head back down so he doesn’t have to look at me.

“I just feel like I made so many mistakes and it’s only my first week,” I explain without giving details.

“That’s what college is for. Mistakes. You’ll get it right. You’re not supposed to have it all figured out yet. As long as you’re being safe… You kind of have to accept failure as much as you accept success while you’re here. Not everything is going to be a win. Stick to doing the things that feel good, the things that make you happiest. I already know that’s dance. I know you love cheer. Even if you don’t know it yet, I know that you love Dakota. Stick to that…” he tells me and I nod.

I want to tell him about Parker. I think about it at first. I think about just coming clean now because keeping secrets from Bellamy has never been something I was good at, even when we were little… but I quickly decide against it. I still haven’t sorted this out with Parker. I don’t even want to do that.

“I’m also violently hungover,” I admit. I can feel him nod.

“I can tell because you smell like throw up,” he tells me, which only causes me to groan. “Go take a shower and I will make hangover food.”

“You’re the best person I know,” I tell him.

“I know,” he smirks,

I shove him and get up, going to the stairs inside of our apartment. I basically scorch my skin off in the shower and I sit on the floor for a while, letting the water semi-burn me until I get used to it. Maybe I’m going numb to it. All I know is that it feels good. I wash my hair that I’m almost positive has vomit in it. It’s embarrassing but also laughable. I think about last night. I ran out like a crazy person. I panicked. Maybe I should have talked to him about it. He seemed like he wanted to talk but what about? Oh god, I’m so dumb. A hot upperclassman slept with me and I didn’t even give him a chance to talk to me about it? I have no idea where he stands. He seemed upset but after I left the way I did… Would he want to talk to me again? Would he potentially want to sleep with me still? Or does he still want our date to go on? Dakota obviously thinks I should go for it. Intoxicated me said fuck it. So… so maybe if he wants to continue this, then we do just that. Maybe we should see what happens, then maybe stop before it’s too serious.

Once I’m out of the shower, I run a brush through my hair and Dutch braid it back and out of my face. The tail of my braid still reaches the middle of my back. I put on one of my dad’s old sweatshirts. It’s a ratty Miami Dolphins hoodie—his favorite team. The shorts I wear look nonexistent underneath my oversized hoodie. I don’t feel better but I feel at least slightly more alive. I walk down the stairs and throw myself on the couch. My brother is shirtless with his back turned to me as he cooks in the kitchen.

“You alright?” he asks.

I groan in response, feeling like shit mentally and physically. I don’t care if throwing pity parties is out. I am bringing it back in. I’m throwing myself a Hollywood-level pity party in my mind even though I’m currently facing the consequences of my own horrible and stupid actions. I should have listened to him this morning. Maybe I’ll call him tonight if I don’t talk myself out of it.

“Cover your eyes, and just… I don’t know, try not to puke on our carpet. Actually, try not to puke at all,” he tells me.

“If you stop saying the word puke it might help,” I mumble with my arm now thrown over my face to cover it from the light.

The door to our apartment opens and I don’t even look because I don’t care.

“Hey, Archie… What are you making?” I hear Lawson’s voice.

“Hangover food… For her,” he replies.

“Oh my god, Brianne Archer’s first college hangover!”

I move my arm from my face and look at him but barely see anything because he’s jumping on the couch at me. He pulls me in and ruffles my hair, making me groan.

“I will throw up on you,” I warn him.

“Throw up on Parks, not me,” he jokes and my blood runs hot because I see him standing at the door, his hands shoved in the pockets of his sweats.

He eyes me, not a single hint of amusement on his features. There’s not even a crack of a smile on his lips. Lips I’ve kissed… This is the first time I’ve ever felt awkward tension between the two of us. I want to talk to him now but I know I can’t. Not yet. Not until the coast is clear. Maybe not at all because the look he gives me to the blind eye seems normal, but I can see in his eyes he’s hurt by what I did.

“You guys want one?” he asks the guys.

“Of course, I want a burger. You make the best hangover burgers with—”

“I swear to god if you put an egg on my burger, I actually will vomit, Belly,” I tell him.

“Burgers with eggs are masterpieces. They were made by gods. They were crafted by—”

“Lawson, stop talking,” I tell him. He scoffs.

“Eggs on burgers are good. Right, guys?” Lawson asks both his friends.

One of which hasn’t stopped looking at me since he walked into my apartment. He’s showered now. His hair is still damp and absolutely perfect. He’s perfect. I gave him the cold shoulder. Oh my god, I’m brainless. I fight the urge to groan at the fact that Parker is pretty and the fact that Lawson keeps saying the word egg just to piss me off.

“Yeah, I don’t mind an egg on a burger,” Parker shrugs.

“Because you’re a guy,” I mumble, following Lawson into the kitchen despite my body protesting with every step.

I sit at one of the barstools and I rest my head in my hands.

“Food doesn’t have a gender. You can’t say it’s because he’s a guy, that argument is totally invalid,” Lawson fights.

“Though, I agree with you that food definitely doesn’t have a gender. If it did for argument’s sake… Burgers with eggs on them would be strictly boy food,” I argue. “So would footlong hotdogs covered in sauerkraut. Sloppy Joe’s. Meat lover’s pizza. A rotisserie chicken. McRib from McDonald’s. Do you want me to continue?” I ask them.

“You’ve thought about this a lot, haven’t you?” Parker asks me.

“Yes. Considering I grew up with a brother, I know that I’m speaking facts,” I tell all of them, not just Parker.

“Well, here you go. Burger with no egg, but still the perfect hangover food,” Bellamy tells me, serving me a burger that does look absolutely delicious even though I'd rather go upstairs and crawl into bed than eat it right now.

If I know anything, I know that eating this will cure me or at least bring me back to life somewhat.

“Did you get meds, Bri?” Bellamy asks me.

“Yes,” I grind my words out.

“For what?” Lawson asks, leaning against the counter.

“Bri has a—”

“Shut up, Bellamy! Don’t air out my issues,” I tell him.

“If he did that we’d be here all day, B,” Lawson jokes, and I hold up my middle finger.

“What’s up? Are we hanging out?” Bellamy asks his friends while we eat.

“I scooped Parks up. We thought we could go to the gym later since Kam is working and Sienna is with her mom,” Lawson tells Bellamy.

“You want to come, B?” Bellamy asks me and I can hear the laughter in his voice.

“Haha, you’re so funny. I’d rather die than go to the gym. Dakota is coming over. He is in fact the only man I’d like to be around right now,” I admit.

Well, there’s one other man I wouldn’t mind being around but I can’t say that out loud. My eyes drift to Parker for a split second. He’s staring straight at me. I watch him clench his jaw, the muscles there feathering. What does that mean?

“Wait, Parker. Didn't you go out last night? With your roommates, right?” Bellamy asks.

I watch as Parker nods and my stomach clenches. He told them he was going out? Interesting.

“Did you get lucky?” Lawson asks and I choke on my food.

All three of them look at me like I’m insane. Bellamy passes me a cup with water in it.

“Jesus B…” Bellamy looks at me with concern and I choke my food down.

“I—” I start.

“It’s none of your business,” he tells them.

Why would they be asking Parker if he got laid? Why in the hell would they even consider asking him that? Did we get caught? Did one of Parker’s roommates tell or—

“It totally is our business. We had a talk. Did you learn nothing?” Bellamy asks and I look between the three of them. What? A talk?

“What talk? What are you guys yapping about now?” I ask, the pounding in my head sadly not ceasing.

“Parker is boring so we made him promise he’d sleep with someone and have fun since it’s college and he’s such a snooze fest all the time,” Lawson tells me.

My stomach bottoms out. I stop chewing for a second, not looking at Parker as the realization hits. I’m actually an idiot. A really big idiot.

“I told them no. They were making me mad over this whole thing and—” Parker starts.

Okay, so Bellamy pissed him off so Parker decided what? To sleep with his little sister to prove a point? Because it was that easy… For once, I feel like I was used for being Bellamy’s sister instead of being avoided as usual. I was picked because I’m naive and stupid.

“That doesn’t matter. What he said didn’t matter. He agreed. So Parker, what happened?” Bellamy asks. I don’t look up as I speak.

“I don’t want to hear about your sex lives,” I warn them.

Especially not Parker’s considering I already know it. What was he thinking? Is he really about to talk about this in front of my brother? In front of me?

“I don’t care. Did you Parker?” Lawson asks.

“No,” Parker lies through his teeth, his eyes bouncing between his friends, only hitting me once.

He’s doing this for my sake as if he even cares about embarrassing me.

“You are lying. You’re a liar. Parker, did you finally get some action?” Bellamy asks.

I wish someone would murder me in my kitchen right now. That would be better than this.

“I’m not talking about this,” Parker shakes his head and I wish I could disappear.

“Just say yes or no, tell us the truth and we won't ask anything else…” Lawson promises.

Parker only eyes me once more with what looks like regret… I hate the look, but I understand it. He’s at the same place I was this morning. Probably wishing it never happened. Now, I wish I never met him if I’m honest.

“Yeah, I did,” he mumbles, and both the boys high-five and celebrate him.

I cringe at the thought that my brother is congratulating his friend on sleeping with me right now…

“You guys are gross,” I mumble, not looking at any of them, but feeling a tight squeeze in my chest.

Dammit. I wish I didn’t care. I wish I wasn’t affected but I am. Right in the middle of my sternum, my heart is lurching.

“Says the one who’s always with her boyfriend… We know what you guys do,” Lawson argues and I glare at him.

“He’s… You know what, whatever,” I shake my head, not having the energy to argue with them.

I finish most of my burger and go upstairs, closing my door behind me. I turn the lights off in my room, lay my head down, and shut my eyes to the world, needing a reprieve from the headache and the stomach ache that Parker definitely is causing. I’m glad I didn’t text him or try to talk to him since I left this morning. This was a horrible mistake. I was right in the first place.

* * *

“Wake the fuck up.”

I shoot out of my bed toward Dakota, who is looking brand new and definitely better than me.

“You look like shit,” he laughs.

“I feel like shit,” I tell him. He sits on my bed, right next to me.

“So… Have your feelings changed at all? Where’s your head at?” he asks.

“I feel like I broke the biggest rule I should have never broken. Not only that, I decided I should hear him out, and then he… Well, I found out that he had some weird thing with my brother and Lawson. They pissed him off because they made him promise he’d be more interesting and hook up with someone. So, Parker promised my brother he’d go out and sleep with someone… Then, he slept with me,” I tell him.

“First of all, that’s fucked up if that’s the full story. But also, you probably don’t know the actual full story. Parker is like… a grumpy teddy bear. He’s innocent until proven guilty. Maybe be angry for a few days and then still hear him out if you feel like it. As for what you said about the rule thing, we’ve been over that… There’s no rule written for this. You’re in the clear,” he explains.

“I think I should just steer clear of him. It's gross that he was bragging to my brother that he slept with me even though Bellamy doesn’t know that. I don’t know, something feels wrong to me. I never said it was against the rules. I said it FEELS like I broke the rules,” I admit.

“It’s not on the rule list,” Dakota fights back.

“Then give me the freaking rule list.” I

hold my hand out. He moves, ruffling through my things before returning with the few rules I wrote down that Leah gave us. I lean over Dakota’s lap and reach into the coffee mug on my nightstand that holds pens.

Bri and Dak’s rule list.

1. If you drink, be careful. If you’re ever in trouble, call an upperclassman.

2. If you fuck a football player, keep it to yourself.

3. We take care of our people. Football players and cheerleaders lean on each other. Don’t fuck that up.

4. Don’t let Dakota get you pregnant. (LOL)

I laugh at the last one and Dakota rolls his eyes. He looks at me expectantly and I stare at the list and then sigh.

“Well, what are you waiting for? What’s number 5?” he asks.

5. DO NOT! Sleep with Bellamy’s friends… Well, don’t do it again.

6. Actually, don’t sleep with any football players from Seattle Pike University ever again.

“Hey, I will not be doing that. I personally have no reason not to sleep with hot football players,” he fights me. I fix it, putting in parentheses that Dakota is excluded from that rule.

7. Never let Bellamy know Brianne partook in #5.

“How about you add the fact that tequila turns you into a little slut?” Dakota asks and I scoff.

“Dakota you have to be nice to me, I’m hungover and suffering,” I tell him.

“It’s not on the rule list. I actually don’t have to do that,” he tells me.

“Fine,” I grumble, putting my pen back to the paper.

8. Remember tequila makes me take my clothes off.

9. Dakota Milton has to be nice to me when I’m hungover and in crisis.

I stare at the rules and shrug.

“Seems pretty solid,” I tell him and hold it out.

He opens my bedside table and ruffles through it until he gets the tape out. He rips off a piece and hangs it up in my makeshift gallery wall.

“Now you can read it every night before bed,” he laughs and I do too, leaning my head on his shoulder.

“I feel like a horrible sister,” I admit.

“You’re not a horrible sister,” he tells me.

“You have to say that,” I laugh.

“No, I don’t. I actually have every right to not say that. I’m always honest with you, Baby. You know that,” he tells me.

“Enough about me. You need to tell me about your night with the cowboy,” I angle my body to him and he smirks,

“Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy) might be my new theme song,” he starts and I throw my head back in laughter, feeling far better than I did this morning.

I’ll just… avoid Parker. I’ll pretend he doesn’t exist unless I’m forced to be around him. Then I will be civil and act like nothing happened. Even if it was the best sex I’ve had. Even if I did enjoy it. I can never let it happen again. I can never let anything else happen between me and Parker Thompson.