Page 13 of Peaks of Color

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Everly

“It hits justthe right spot. I’m telling you, Ev. It’s like when you grind down all the way, it’s a clit-hitter.” G sips her vodka and lemons on the rocks. She keeps going on about her last appointment of the day.

“Now they just need to make vibrating piercings. Oh! Or can you imagine if you could do matching piercings, like those Best Friend heart necklaces when we were kids, but these are like the adult versions, and every time they meet, they’d start vibrating?” G is on a roll once again, and I’m laughing my ass off.

“I feel like there’s a business idea here...What? Stop laughing at me. I’m being serious.”

“I’m not laughing at you, I promise. Is this guy good enough for round two?” I look around the bar, surveying who we might know here, and to be sure we haven’t attracted too much attention between my laughing and G’s loud, sexual business ideas.

“Ev, round two was when I discovered the clit-hitter. Then we had round three in the break room. Then you texted and I decided you were my perfect escape. The guy was starting to talk about getting breakfast together in the morning. I thought it was very clear when I was finishing his tattoo that we were going to see each other's O-faces and then the only aftercare necessary was for his new ink.”

“You know, one of these days, you’re going to find one that matchesyourwants and you’re going to be the one planning breakfast.”

“Doubtful.” She laughs, but then instantly scowls after looking over my shoulder. “Fucking, great,” she says in a deadpan tone.

I look toward what’s turned her mood into an instant downer. Around the outdoor firepit is my brother, Law, making exaggerated arm gestures, narrating some kind of story that has about half a dozen women laughing. Next to him is my brother, Henry, looking as pissed off as ever. Always stoic, rarely showing any kind of emotion other than disdain, but for some reason, women still flock to him. That very beautiful redhead included, who is whispering something in his ear.Gross. I love my brothers, but I could do without seeing women throw themselves all over them. Having a thing with a Riggs boy is like a rite of passage in this town.Double ick.

“Henry looks like he’s sized up his butt plug this evening, based on that scowl he’s sporting. Ew, is that girl nibbling on his ear? It’s not even after midnight, for fuck’s sake.”

G waves the cocktail waitress over to us for another round, then she drags her annoyed attention back to my brothers and Jack. “Are you fucking kidding me, Ev? Tell methat’sthe photographer that has your panties in a frontal wedgie.” She grabs my arm and squeezes as if to draw more details out of me.

On the other side of the firepit is Jack talking to another annoyingly pretty woman, but instead of looking at her and returning her flirtatious body language, he’s staring right back at me. “Yes. That would be him.”

“Cheezus, Everly Riggs, you had better get that man to spank your ass and tell you to be his good girl, or I’m calling dibs. What, is he just staring at you?”

“He’s staring.” Jack looks away for a minute to answer something the Chatty Cathy to his left just said, then resumes his attention back to me.

“I’m staring now. Please tell me he has, like, a whiny voice or is dumb as rocks or something to offset that face. Oh, wow, and that body.”

He winks, then smiles; he knows we’re talking about and objectifying him. His dimples flash and it's as if he’s unleashed some sort of hidden sexual weapon of mass destruction. I’m speechless and need more vodka in my mouth, immediately.

“I either just came or I’ve peed myself,” G deadpans.

I practically choke on my sip.

G continues. “That’sthe asshole in your pool house for the next month? Hell, Ev, it’s like God herself decided to call theHoly Hot as Fuck Division, and said, ‘Everly Riggs needs to be good and thoroughly fucked. Send in the big guns.’”

I drag my attention away from him and gape at my friend. Sometimes the things that come out of her mouth are pure comedic gold.

“What? You donotwant to get on Her bad side. When the universe sends you a gift, you take it. And, girl, you need to TAKE. IT! This is exactly the kind of person we were just talking about. Gorgeous, fire-inducing, and temporary.”

“G, I worry about you sometimes.”

“Don’t. I have plenty of money, my business is incredibly fulfilling, and I am a liberated woman who enjoys men, sometimes women, in all shapes and sizes. You, my fabulous friend, have been telling me for the past year that your fuck buddy is, and I quote, ‘Okay-ishin bed.’ I mean, what is that? It wasn’t even okay, you added theish! I’m the one concerned aboutyou. And now you have a living, breathing men’s cologne and underwear advertisement just existing mere feet away from where you sleep at night and you’re asking me what’s wrong with me!? Girl, this is your opportunity to abandon your checked boxes and focus on yourlady box. I’m sure she’s annoyed you haven’t presented her to him yet.”

I can’t argue with her there. For the next few minutes, I think about what she says as I steal glances at the newest visitor to grace our small town’s presence. There are a few groups of women who walk up to the guys, flirt, and grab selfies. My brothers have a bit of a following on social media, but Jack is just ridiculously good looking, and it’s not wrong to assume that he’s some kind of celebrity. How can a person even be jealous? I mean, someone who looks like him needs to be experienced by many. And my guess is that he’s experienced. It's not that we’re in different leagues. We play different sports. I wonder if I can do this, play in his arena, with no strings and just great sex. Am I even built for it?

Getting up from the table, she grabs her drink and nods for me to follow her. It looks like we’re going to say hello after all. The brisk air outside hits with a bite when we open the doors to the firepit patio. Even though she came from a full afternoon of work and a post-appointment hook-up, Giselle still manages to look flawlessly confident.

My girl rocks a tight black leather skirt and vintage cropped Nina Simone concert t-shirt, with black combat boots. Her colorful wildflower tattoos cascade from her shoulders down to her hands. If she emerged from the ocean right now, I’d be certain she was a siren waiting to devour the next man to glance her way.

There’s always a sense of fun woven into what she wears. It’s a stark contrast to my black-on-black attire, but don’t get me wrong, I feel the most confident in the basics of black and white. The only trace of color I’m sporting tonight is the crushed velvet red lipstick I stained my lips with earlier. My favorite black cocktail dress hits just below the knee, but hugs my boobs, hips, and waist just perfectly. It’s sexy and understated. I put more attention into the material and the cut instead of color. The one similarity between us physically is that we both rock long hair. I have dark waves, with some lighter caramel highlights that run past my shoulders, while G has white-blonde, almost silver, tresses that drape down her back in loose curls.

“There she is! Get over here, Everly, and help me talk Henry into making those duck fat potatoes with his smoked meat this weekend.” Law likes to use me as the negotiator between him and Henry. I have a really good relationship with each of them, but with each other, it’s very competitive. At least that’s the case with Henry and Law. I kiss Law on the cheek, then I lean down to Henry and do the same.

“Be nice today. She’s in a good mood, so don’t ruin my night,” I whisper to him, referring to Giselle.

Henry looks over my shoulder to G. “Ev, she’s the one who can’t turn her mouth off. It’s not me.”


Tags: Victoria Wilder Romance