Pretty Boy D by Rachel Jonas

6

Joss

Despite the small measure of help she offered the triplets in months past, Pandora is toxic as fuck. I muted her posts for the last couple days, hoping to drown out whatever negativity she might get circulating, and I couldn’t have been more right about that.

I caved this morning, peeking in to see what she had to say and, of course, she’s feeding the rumor mill big time. This shit about Sterling is sure to cause a stir, and she hasn’t been shy about calling massive attention to me living here with Dane, speculating that we’d cross the line eventually.

As of today, two days in, we’ve had no drama and no awkwardness.

So, suck it, Pandora.

I lift my head from the mattress to peek at the door. Seeing that I hadn’t forgotten to lock it after coming back from the shower, my head falls to the mattress again, letting my feet dangle off the edge.

Maybe moving in together wasn’t a mistake. Although, it might still be too early to tell.

The phone sounds off and I glance that way before reaching across the comforter to grab it.

Carlos.

I answer and he smiles at me through the screen.

“Good morning,” he greets me, his accent lacing through every syllable.

“Good morning.” I smile up at him after rolling onto my back again.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“Nope. Just finished showering, so my day hasn’t really started yet.”

I sit upright, adjusting the towel around my chest with my free hand. At first, I’m unsure why his expression has just changed, going from being happy to see me, to confused.

“Are you… vacationing?”

It takes a second to realize he’s noticed my backdrop is different than usual. Instead of seeing the gray painted walls of my bedroom, he’s staring at a wall of exposed brick and a huge window behind me.

“Um, not exactly. I moved,” I share.

“Oh.” His brow quirks with that one word, but I know he has more to say. “Are you in the dorms already? I thought you were holding off until next semester.”

There goes that sensation again. The one where it feels like my stomach’s bottoming out. It comes from feeling like I live in two worlds and they’ve just collided.

“Actually, I moved in with a friend a couple days ago. My parents decided to leave the country for a bit, and I stayed behind.”

It feels strange dumbing that entire fiasco down to so few words, but I’m not in the mood to rehash the entire, painful ordeal.

“Hm. Well, I’m sure it’ll be fun,” he says with a smile. “Is this your friend Blue?”

My stomach churns again. “Nope. Dane.” I say it quickly, leaving little room for my words and tone to be analyzed.

He’s seen Dane before. Granted, it was only through pics of us I posted on social media, but it was enough to make him ask questions about the nature of the relationship early on. Nothing that felt too possessive, just him wanting clarity as to whether Dane and I were involved or just friends. Only, even after I explained that we’d been tight since sixth grade, I sensed his lingering suspicion, his discomfort with the idea of me being close friends with a guy.

It’s always evident in the slight changes in his expression whenever I talk about Dane, or how he quickly rushes off the phone when he happens to call while Dane and I are hanging out. Basically, I know he subscribes to the same theory as everyone else.

That there’s absolutely no way a guy and a girl can keep a relationship clean without lines getting crossed. Guess we’ll just have to let our actions speak for us.

“Oh,” Carlos finally says, unable to hide that look on his face.

“He got a loft downtown and offered to let me stay,” I add nervously. “It’s big enough that I have my own room and everything.”

Dead silence. In fact, the only feedback I’m getting is that stiff head nod that makes it clear he isn’t believing a single word I’ve just said.

“It won’t be too far a drive from school, either. Which will be nice when cheer practice starts in a couple weeks, and especially when winter hits.”

Still nothing.

I fidget with one of my damp curls and let my gaze drift to the wall, feeling super uncomfortable with his reaction. It’s put me in a position to keep explaining why I decided to do this, but I don’t owe him that. We’re not together and I haven’t made any type of commitment. Honestly, yeah, there’s some pretty strong physical attraction between us, but I don’t think this is going anywhere. If it were, after keeping in touch for a year, I think I’d know.

“You’ll… have to give me a virtual tour sometime,” he finally says, flashing what seems like a tight smile that leaves him a little too quickly.

“Sure. Whenever you’re ready.”

I’m anxious to end our call, so I take this next bout of silence as an opportunity.

“Well, I should get ready. I’ve got a few things to knock off my to-do list this morning.”

“Of course. We’ll talk later.”

“Bye,” I say with a wave, feeling super relieved to be ending this.

The moment my screen goes dark, I breathe a sigh of relief. I’ve got enough to worry about without adding Carlos’ feelings to the list. Starting with the fact that my parents are leaving soon, and I have yet to hear from either of them. I’m sure Mom would’ve, but she’s likely been super busy tying up loose ends. Still, the radio silence hurts a little.

Don’t do it, Joss. Don’t let the sadness in. Focus.

With that, I stand from the bed and throw on the khaki shorts and white tank I laid out for the day. Then, I work a bit of product through my hair and pull it up into a bun. After that, I open my bedroom door and settle in to start my first day of work. I’ll mostly be on my phone and iPad, but it seems fitting to be at my desk, so that’s where I sit, providing a bit of structure.

“Let’s see what we have here,” I sigh to myself, pulling up Dane’s Instagram account. His login info is the same for everything, which has me making a mental note to encourage him to change that.

Right away, I see where I need to start, but there’s some serious hesitation as I stare at his jam-packed DMs. I’m guessing he’s gone through them this week, but there are still nearly a hundred staring me in the face right now. So, pulling up my big girl britches, I go in with caution.

Right away, I feel like I need a body condom just reading this shit. Photo after photo of naked chicks trying to give their vaginas away. I mean, straight up handing them over on a silver platter for Dane to do with them as he pleases.

“Thirsty bitches,” I grumble to myself.

Delete. Delete. Delete.

Boob shot.

Delete.

I should’ve waited to shower after I finished with this shit, because now I feel dirty all over again.

I keep scrolling into some of the older messages and don’t see what I expect. There’s very little engagement on Dane’s part. As in, he doesn’t respond to most of this B.S. From the looks of it, he only replies to people he actually knows.

Interesting.

“Find anything good?”

I nearly leap out of my chair when he wanders in with coffee, smiling behind the mug when he sips. At first, I’m focused there, on his smile. Then, I notice he’s shirtless, wearing nothing but plaid pajama pants. The long, thick, and very distinct outline between his legs tells me he’s likely not wearing anything underneath them.

“I… no, actually,” I say once I finally remember ‘how to English’.

Damn abs.

“Looks like Rose was worried for nothing. I mean, yeah, these girls reach out, but you haven’t done or said anything stupid. Not from what I can see anyway.”

He smiles again. “This should be an easy job for you, then.”

I shrug and glance back toward the screen, scrolling to the top again. That’s when I notice one I missed. Surprisingly, I’m not accosted by body parts when I open it.

“You know something about a girl named Shawna?”

Dane’s eyes slam shut when he nods. “Shit. Yeah. Rose mentioned that she’d be in touch. It’s her daughter. She sent something?”

I nod. “Yep, just to introduce herself. Nothing specific.”

He sips again and shrugs. “Maybe I’ll get to it when I’m done at the gym. Need anything before I go? There’s coffee,” he adds, lifting his own into the air.

I glance up at him for a sec, being mindful not to stare. “Uh, nope. I think I’m good. Have fun.”

“Will do.”

I don’t look up again until he’s gone. Mostly because I don’t trust myself. It’s only day two and I’m already thinking we should add another rule to our list.

Dane shalt not go shirtless.

Signed, my ovaries.