“Damn right, you will. And next time I catch you looking at her tits, I won’t let you off so easily.”

Oh, my God. “I’m sorry.” I waved apologetically at muscles then grabbed Wes by the side of his shirt and pulled him away. He jerked stiffly still reared up in territorial mode before he softened into his usual heavy steps along with me. “What’s the matter with you?” I hissed again trying not to make a scene.

“Dude checked out your tits, C,” Wes said.

“No. He did not. He was answering my questions like he is paid to do.”

“While looking at your tits.”

“Stop saying tits.”

“Would you prefer I say cock?” Wes’ voice took on a playful tone at the question, and I froze in an aisle somewhere between the mailboxes and trashcans.

“What?” I squeaked.

“Cock. Would you prefer if I told you that he was thinking with his cock while staring at your tits?” My pulse was jackrabbiting through my veins. Something about that word on Wes’ lips had always gotten to me, to a place in me that no spoken words had touched before.

The first time I’d heard him use the word, he was over at our house and hanging out with August. I was walking past August’s door when I heard the word and felt it tear through my body. I remained motionless in the hallway and listened to every detail about Wes getting a blowjob from one of the school cheerleaders. The tingling and warmth that overcame me was altogether foreign and addicting.

I walked back toward my own room on shaky legs that day, the same shaky legs I was attempting to stay upright on now. Ever since, the moment Wes uttered that word, those same feeling came rushing back to me. Only now, they were a pleasant annoyance, and clearly, he’d figured that out.

“That’s enough, Wes,” I hissed.

“Cock-a-doodle-do, C!” He looked over his shoulder with a huge grin and winked. I followed behind him and watched his ass rock beneath his long torso as he walked. Gah, he could be so aggravating.

“I’ll meet you at the car!” I shouted up to him and turned around, making a point to go in a completely different direction than he had gone.

Back in the car, Wes continued to irritate me further. First, he held my door open for me. I mean, what? Did he think I wasn’t capable of opening my own door? This was the twenty-first century. Women knew how to open and close doors. Then, he went and turned down his music so he could apologize. “I overreacted, Capri. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Wes.” I shoved the words out quickly, not wanting to discuss this with him.

“Why do you always have to have a dude?” he said staring straight ahead, but my head snapped in his direction. Say what?

“What? How is that any of your business?”

“It’s not.” He shrugged.

“Well, why do you always have girls hanging all over you?” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“She wasn’t anybody important, Capri.” I rolled my eyes and let my head fall against the window.

“Who you hook up with is your own business. I really don’t want to hear about it.” I watched as we passed through the city back to SYC.

“I didn’t hook up with her, C. That’s what I’m trying to tell you!” Wes leaned forward onto his steering wheel.

“You didn’t hook up with her, but you know intimate details about her bedframe?” I cocked my head at him.

“Stop.”

“I mean, how else would you know that? You obviously hooked up with her.”

“Capri, stop.” His fingers gripped the steering wheel, sending a ripple of tension from his forearm up to his bicep. His pulse thumped through the protruding veins on his lower arm in a quick and thunderous pace. God, that’s hot.

I shook my head.

“Of course, you did, Wes. It’s what you do! You hook up all the time! Every time I turn around, there’s another freakin’ girl!” Now I leaned forward flailing my arms around like a crazy chick.

“And every time I turn around, there’s another fuckin’ dude!” Wes bellowed at the windshield. I guess I had the same effect on him as well because he nailed crazy guy. I slammed back against my seat crossing my crazy arms over my chest and glared at Wes.

“Excuse me?” My words slipped coolly over my heated voice.

“You. You act like I’m out there hooking up with anyone and everyone. Meanwhile, you have a new boyfriend every week. How is that any different? What if I called all the chicks I fuck my girlfriends? Then what? Fuckin’ ‘em is suddenly okay?”

I squinted at his declaration. “Cool, so I’m a slut now?” I asked masking the bruise he’d just left on my heart.

“You calling me a slut?” He cocked an eyebrow but damn if he still wouldn’t look at me. You’d think the stupid windshield grew a pair of boobs with the way he was fixated on it.

“Yeah,” I said honestly. “Well, he-hussy actually.” I cocked my head proudly.

Wes’ eyes squinted, and I caught a hint of a smile peek out from his profile. “He-hussy?”

“He-hussy.”

Wes shook his head, chuckling lowly. His oversized body shook with gentle laughter and his grip on the steering wheel loosened.

Dammit. I smiled, too. I didn’t know what it was with this guy, but he smiled? I smiled.

“Look, Capri,” he said driving into a parking spot. He pulled on the emergency brake and shut the car off before turning to me and looking at me for the first time since we left the hardware store.

I breathed. Wes looked at me, and I could breathe again. I’d heard people describe the sight of someone taking their breath away, but to say that would mean life stopped. He has never taken my breath away. Every time I saw him, I remembered to breathe. I remembered to live.

“I would never, never call you a slut. Nor have I ever thought of you as one. Have I wondered why you date douchebag after douchebag? Absolutely. It drives me nuts, actually. Seeing you, this smart, gorgeous, and talented chick passing herself around like that. I don’t get it, and I sure as hell don’t like it, but I don’t have it in me to think such awful things about you. Especially you.” Wes’ expression was hard and firm. It was such a contrast to his usual carefree demeanor that I had no choice but to believe him.

“Oh.” I sighed and sunk further into my seat. I played with my hands in my lap for a few seconds, and then looked back at Wes. “Well, I’ve usually thought of you as a he-hussy,” I said shrugging a shoulder at him and turning my lips up to one side.

He leaned back into his seat in a healthy chuckle that brought me to giggles along with him. “Yeah, I figured as much,” he said shaking his head along with his laughter.

Who went to bars alone after work? This guy. I didn’t actually come to drink away my worries, so it was not as creepy as it sounded. I did have a beer or two, but I really just didn’t like going home to an empty place every night. Tommy’s was a pretty chill place and felt more like someone’s really big living room than a bar. So see, not creepy.

My afternoon with Capri had my mind flying around in my head like a tetherball. I freakin’ loved that game as a kid. I remembered that time I pounded Capri in the face with it. God, I’d felt awful. There was blood dripping from her nose, and her eyes were all watery, but she didn’t cry.

She kept reassuring me that she was fine, but I couldn’t stand to see her hurt knowing I did it. I ran into her house so fast I knocked August over onto the grass. I grabbed an ice pack and a towel for her and ran back just as quickly, stomping on August’s hand. I skipped out on working with Blue that afternoon because I couldn’t leave her until I knew she was okay.

I sat with her and August on the Hunter’s back step eating out of a tub of ice cream until Donna finally convinced me that Capri was going to be okay and she’d give me a ride home. She was okay, but damn she had a black eye for days. I could really kill it in tetherball. I bet I could still kill it now.