The Jackpot Screwer (Love in Dayton #2) - Nikki Ashton Page 0,1
station. Anyway, if I have a nickname for Ellie, and that’s a big if, it’d between me and her.”
At that moment, my sister walked out of the house. She looked a little mystified and was shaking her head. “She won’t come out and she won’t tell me what you did.”
“I didn’t do anything,” I protested. “Not a damn thing. I even told her how good her tits were looking.”
“Well, that’s a little bit caveman and not the most romantic of compliments.” Ellie sighed. “But even for Bronte, it’s a little harsh to dump you on your ass for praising her assets.”
“Exactly.” I threw my hands into the air. “She’s definitely hormonal, like I said.”
Ellie’s eyes hardened as she widened her stance. “You did not?”
“Yeah, she was being bitchy, so I said I didn’t realize it was that time of the month.”
Hunter winced. “Shit man, that was totally the wrong thing to say.”
“No wonder she dumped you.” Ellie glared at me before turning to Hunter. “Let’s go. I can’t deal with his stupidity any longer, plus remember Dad took Mom away for the weekend, so we have the house to ourselves.”
My best friend grinned like he was the fox who’d stolen the fattest chicken from the coop. “Okay, let’s go.”
“So, you’re not going to help me?” I asked as they both turned and practically ran for Hunter’s truck.
“Sorry, but your sister needs my full attention.” He took Ellie’s hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing the back of it.
“You disgust me,” I called. “You know that?”
Hunter flipped me off over his shoulder without even looking back.
“Hey, Ellie,” I shouted.
“What?” she asked with a sigh, pulling up short and turning toward me.
“What’s Hunt’s cute little nickname for you?”
She shrugged her shoulders and answered, “Cutie pie, why?” at the same time as Hunter shouted, “Don’t tell him.”
“Why’d you tell him?” Hunter asked as he dragged her away.
“He asked.” Ellie sounded a little frustrated.
“Yeah, well now he’s going to give me shit about it.”
“But I am your cutie pie.”
I rolled my eyes as my sister pushed up on her toes and kissed the life out of my best friend.
“Please, just go,” I called to them. “Leave me to my damn misery.”
Laughing and tangled in each other, they stumbled to Hunter’s truck. When it finally rumbled away down the quiet street where the Bronte and her family lived, I turned back to the door. It felt impenetrable, like the drawbridge of some damn castle I couldn’t scale up to reach the damsel.
However, I was never one to quit. Fisting my hand, I banged on it again.
“Bronte. Open up or I swear I’ll stay here all night. Maybe I’ll even start singing.”
We Maples were not the best of singers, and Bronte had often likened mine to the sound of a mule with a head cold.
“I mean it,” I cried. “I can sing the whole Blur back catalog if you want me to.”
British Indie bands were our thing and Bronte particularly liked Blur. I knew it would hurt her feelings if I ruined her favorite tune.
“I could murder Tender right here, right now, if you want me to.”
Within seconds the door swung open and Bronte stood in front of me looking as damn beautiful as ever, with her blue and purple hair hanging in beach-waved tendrils around her face and over her amazing bigger-than-usual tits.
“Don’t you dare,” she hissed as she rubbed at her nose with a handkerchief and then swiped away a stray tear.
I took a step closer and held my hand out to her. “Lollipop baby, please tell me what I’ve done wrong. How can I fix it, if you don’t tell me?”
“You can’t fix it,” she yelled, stamping her foot. “Nothing can fix it. Things will never be the same again.”
I took a deep breath and tried not to show my frustration. We’d only been together a few months, but I’d known Bronte all her life. That meant I knew exactly when to let her know she pissed me off and when not to – the when was usually when she was horny because I knew my being all macho and angry got me some extra action in the bedroom. The when not, well that was times like now when she was obviously upset about something, even if I had no idea what it was, or why the fuck I was suddenly a pickle stealer.
I took a breath to beat down any sharpness in my tone and took her hand in mine. “Please,