“My car isn’t running right now.”
“Yeah it is, I fixed it last week.”
“How?”
She does jazz hands. “With these. Now get your ass in gear. You can tell me all about how he romanced you into giving up your V-card. And I want to know more about the orgasms.”Chapter Ten: Fuck UpGriffin
My life is generally pretty drama-free unless it involves my family. My brother Lex is the one who always got into shit as a kid, usually with my cousin Armstrong. Last year, Lex took it to a whole new level when he slept with Armstrong’s jilted bride on her honeymoon—she went alone since Armstrong decided to get a blow job from someone who was not the bride at the reception. Then Lex proceeded to fall in love with her. Now they’re engaged.
Like I said, the drama is usually reserved for other members of my family.
So I have no idea how to deal with this unprecedented situation.
What is the likelihood that in a city this huge, I would hook up with someone and then unknowingly devirginize her sister?
Pretty fucking unlikely, I should think.
Things I remember about the night with Nevah—not much. I’d bought her drinks, and we’d done a lot of shots. I was seeing double by the time I left the bar. I decided a nap in my car might help since I’d been dumb enough to drive there. She followed me outside, freaked out about my Tesla, and asked if she could sit in it. Which is the point where everything gets fuzzy.
And now look at the clusterfuck that it’s caused.
Housekeeping still hasn’t been by when I return to the hotel, so I’m faced with all the reminders of Cosy and our night together. I scrub a palm over my face. I need some advice. I call the one person I actually trust not to judge me too harshly for this—Lincoln.
He’s currently out in Guatemala on one of his community outreach projects, so it’s a crapshoot whether he’ll have decent reception.
Thankfully he answers on the third ring. “I was just thinking about calling you. What’s up, cuz? You still living in Vegas sin?”
“Hey, yeah, still in Vegas. How’s Guatemala treating you?” I drop down on the couch. I can smell Cosy on the fabric.
“Hot as Satan’s balls in a jockstrap after a football game, but good otherwise. You okay? You sound off.”
“You got a few minutes to talk? I have a situation, and I’m not sure how to handle it.”
“Yeah. Sure. Of course. A work situation?”
“No. Personal.”
“Please tell me it doesn’t have anything to do with my brother.”
“Not this time.” Armstrong is Lincoln’s younger brother. Linc has done everything he can to separate himself from his family, including moving around to different countries to avoid them. He’s more like my brother than he is Armstrong’s.
“Okay. That’s good. Lay it on me.”
It sounds pretty damn shady in my head, so I can only imagine how it’s going to sound out loud. “So you remember that bachelor party I had to host a while ago?”
“The one where you drew the short straw and had to go to a porn shop with the hot salesgirl?”
“That’s the one.”
I fill him in on everything with Cosy.
“Sounds like you’re into this woman. What’s the situation?”
“So last night she stayed over—”
“—and she wanted to peg you?”
“No, asshole. Can you shut up and let me get the rest of this out?”
“Shutting up. Continue.”
I wait a few seconds to make sure he’s not going to interrupt again. “And this morning I drove her back to her place. She has a sister who’s staying with her.”
“Okay.”
“And it turns out, I hooked up with her when I first got to Vegas.”
“You’re shitting me.” Lincoln’s disbelief is completely understandable. I don’t do hookups.
“I wish I were. It was that night that Imogen called and wanted to talk or whatever. I went out, got shitfaced, and apparently screwed a random in my car, who happened to be this girl’s sister. The worst part is, I had zero recollection of anything from that night until she recognized me this morning.”
“Well, that’s messed up. I’m guessing you won’t be seeing the sister again, either one.”
“You don’t think this is fixable?”
“Uh . . . I guess it depends on how close they are?”
“I think they’re pretty close. Her sister is staying with her right now.”
Linc exhales heavily. “Oh, man.”
I pace the room, reminders of Cosy everywhere from the messed-up sheets to the champagne bottles and the empty whipped cream canister. “I like this girl, woman. I like her.”
“Is she worth the trouble? You’re going to be there for what, a couple more months? What exactly are you trying to fix?”
This is the part I’m not excited to share, so I half mumble it. “She was a virgin.” I’m met with a long stretch of silence. “Linc?”