money to earn.” I took my seat and reached for my textbook. Both brothers looked at me as if I’d sprouted a second head.
Trip appeared thoughtful and returned his gaze to the rubbing he was holding. After he gave it a casual once over, he asked “How many of these do I have to buy so you can close the booth down and join us? My treat.”
“For lunch?” I glanced down at my jeans and sneakers, then at Sam as if for confirmation that his brother was serious. His face was as expressionless as a Vegas poker champ, but his eyes sparkled with amusement.
“You should take off the rest of the day.” Trip’s tone was forceful and firm. I sat back in my chair and crossed my legs, as if this sort of thing happens all the time. I skimmed over my inventory, calculating what I needed for grocery money through the end of the month. Then I promptly doubled it.
“Fifteen.” I waited for him to balk at me.
He didn’t even blink. “Can you deliver? I didn’t drive.”
“Sure.” I fought to appear casual at the amount of money he just dropped so that I could eat with him. I filed away the backhanded invitation to his place while I stood and gathered my things. Both of the brothers pitched in to help me close up shop, stacking frames and assisting while I packed up. As I glanced up from my cash box, they both shot me hot matching bookend smiles that pushed me even further toward the edge of my nympho cliff. My fingers rapidly flew over the screen of my phone as I texted Jayse an S.O.S. My body’s lusty response to Sam gave me pause, and I was starting to have second thoughts about letting Trip out of the friend zone, since the slope seemed to be a wee bit more slippery than I remembered.
Me: I need a chastity belt, STAT.
Jayse’s response was swift and 100% in character.
You just need to get laid, Miss Thang!
After stuffing the trunk and nearly half of the back seat of my car with the frames, the three of us crossed the street and made our way to Vic’s. As we weaved through the crowded sidewalks, a startling feeling of foreboding crept over me. I assumed I was reacting to the weird vibes that the brothers were exuding. It was obvious listening to them attempt small talk that though Trip was ecstatic to see Sam, the brothers had issues. It wasn’t anything that either of them verbalized per se, but more what they didn’t say. Sam seemed to avoid all eye contact with Trip. Conversely, Trip seemed to be working extra hard to engage Sam in conversation. Sam’s answers were brusque, and the conversation seemed obnoxiously one sided. The whole scene was stupendously awkward for me, and it wasn’t long before I began to feel sorry for Trip.
By the time we entered the restaurant, I was incredibly fidgety and edgy. I struggled to understand the sudden shift in my mood. Until that morning, I’d felt really relaxed with Trip and was on the brink of asking him out. But now, in the company of both Sam and Trip, I felt all twisty and confused. There was something about their body language that jostled my instincts like tiny rumblings that might barely register on the Richter scale. As I watched Sam’s poorly disguised apprehension as they walked side by side, I had a premonition that my appetite would be ruined long before the entrees came.
As we entered Vic’s, a pretty brunette hostess glanced up from her schedule. Her metamorphosis from harsh and businesslike to dumbstruck when she saw my two companions was undeniably entertaining. She seemed especially flustered when her eyes rested on Trip. She pointedly turned away from him and zeroed in on Sam.
“Sa….Mr. Beaumont. It’s been a while! Your usual table?” Her panicked eyes flit from Sam to Trip, and then back to her schedule. She pushed up her designer glasses and set her jaw, as if determined to get them seated before retreating to the ladies room to hide in a stall and cry.
“We’ll take whatever works for you, Jen.” Sam dismissively looked away, running
Trip appeared thoughtful and returned his gaze to the rubbing he was holding. After he gave it a casual once over, he asked “How many of these do I have to buy so you can close the booth down and join us? My treat.”
“For lunch?” I glanced down at my jeans and sneakers, then at Sam as if for confirmation that his brother was serious. His face was as expressionless as a Vegas poker champ, but his eyes sparkled with amusement.
“You should take off the rest of the day.” Trip’s tone was forceful and firm. I sat back in my chair and crossed my legs, as if this sort of thing happens all the time. I skimmed over my inventory, calculating what I needed for grocery money through the end of the month. Then I promptly doubled it.
“Fifteen.” I waited for him to balk at me.
He didn’t even blink. “Can you deliver? I didn’t drive.”
“Sure.” I fought to appear casual at the amount of money he just dropped so that I could eat with him. I filed away the backhanded invitation to his place while I stood and gathered my things. Both of the brothers pitched in to help me close up shop, stacking frames and assisting while I packed up. As I glanced up from my cash box, they both shot me hot matching bookend smiles that pushed me even further toward the edge of my nympho cliff. My fingers rapidly flew over the screen of my phone as I texted Jayse an S.O.S. My body’s lusty response to Sam gave me pause, and I was starting to have second thoughts about letting Trip out of the friend zone, since the slope seemed to be a wee bit more slippery than I remembered.
Me: I need a chastity belt, STAT.
Jayse’s response was swift and 100% in character.
You just need to get laid, Miss Thang!
After stuffing the trunk and nearly half of the back seat of my car with the frames, the three of us crossed the street and made our way to Vic’s. As we weaved through the crowded sidewalks, a startling feeling of foreboding crept over me. I assumed I was reacting to the weird vibes that the brothers were exuding. It was obvious listening to them attempt small talk that though Trip was ecstatic to see Sam, the brothers had issues. It wasn’t anything that either of them verbalized per se, but more what they didn’t say. Sam seemed to avoid all eye contact with Trip. Conversely, Trip seemed to be working extra hard to engage Sam in conversation. Sam’s answers were brusque, and the conversation seemed obnoxiously one sided. The whole scene was stupendously awkward for me, and it wasn’t long before I began to feel sorry for Trip.
By the time we entered the restaurant, I was incredibly fidgety and edgy. I struggled to understand the sudden shift in my mood. Until that morning, I’d felt really relaxed with Trip and was on the brink of asking him out. But now, in the company of both Sam and Trip, I felt all twisty and confused. There was something about their body language that jostled my instincts like tiny rumblings that might barely register on the Richter scale. As I watched Sam’s poorly disguised apprehension as they walked side by side, I had a premonition that my appetite would be ruined long before the entrees came.
As we entered Vic’s, a pretty brunette hostess glanced up from her schedule. Her metamorphosis from harsh and businesslike to dumbstruck when she saw my two companions was undeniably entertaining. She seemed especially flustered when her eyes rested on Trip. She pointedly turned away from him and zeroed in on Sam.
“Sa….Mr. Beaumont. It’s been a while! Your usual table?” Her panicked eyes flit from Sam to Trip, and then back to her schedule. She pushed up her designer glasses and set her jaw, as if determined to get them seated before retreating to the ladies room to hide in a stall and cry.
“We’ll take whatever works for you, Jen.” Sam dismissively looked away, running
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