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on my chest. “Don’t answer that.” I glare at him. “Can we get started already?” I want this over and done.
    His eyes claw at my blouse.
    It figures.
    I turn up the disdain on my face. My expression says, If you say one more nasty thing, if you call me Power Pole or High Tension or Benjamin Skanklin, I will peel every inch of skin off your body with a rusty paring knife then roll your skinless body in salt. Picture what happens when you pour salt on a slug, because a slug is all that you are, Connor Pukes. The only sound I actually make is a short sharp snort.
    Ignoring my ire, he rolls out a haphazard chuckle. “You grew breasts. I didn’t think you had it in you.” He leers with that same damn leer I learned to loathe in high school.
    “I’m full of surprises,” I smirk. Before I realize I’m doing it, I fold my arms protectively over my blouse. It’s an old habit of mine. I’m an expert at defensive posturing, thanks to Connor. I thought I’d broken the habit. Despite Connor’s leering stare, I drop my arms to my side. Not that there’s much for him to see. Yes, there’s more than there was in high school, but I’m sure my boobs are nothing compared to the over-inflated Barbie balloons he goes for.
    He leans casually against the door frame, grinning at me. “Damn, War Mouth. I can’t believe you went and got hot.”
    Is he being serious?
    Of course he isn’t.
    I scowl a silent reply. I will not play into his usual games. I know he would love for me to take the bait and thank him and accept the compliment at face value. Knowing Connor, he has some witty retort lined up to make me look stupid. Something like “ No, I meant hot, as in sweaty, as in, you have huge pit stains. Did you forget your anti-perspirant this morning? ” or something worse. Connor was always a master at twisting my words so I looked like an idiot in front of everybody. That’s why I resist the urge to glance at my armpits. I did put on anti-perspirant this morning, didn’t I? Wondering about it makes my body temperature spike thirty degrees.
    Damn it, it took less than a minute for him to get me flustered.
    Romeo nudges against my arm and whispers, “Why does he keep calling you War Mouth?”
    “Because my last name is Warmoth,” I hiss.
    “Luv it,” Romeo giggles.
    I slap him with a hateful glare. My dirty looks are dangerous. I got really good at them in high school, again thanks to Connor. Sometimes a hateful look is easier than coming up with a witty retort on the fly.
    Romeo winces nervously. “I mean, hate it. Worst nickname ev -er . So, ummm… may I presume you two know each other?”
    “I went to high school with this limp dick stick,” I grumble.
    Romeo’s eyes explode in awe. He gasps, “You know THE Connor?”
    “Unfortunately,” I mumble.
    Romeo titters, “Someone get me a fainting couch! I’m about to expire!”
    Sudden chaos erupts from behind Connor.
    A beautiful young caramel-skinned woman in a disheveled emerald cocktail dress and heels barges out of the room. When she sees me, she stops abruptly and her eyes headlight. “Who are you ?” She hisses at me, “Are you the fitness interview?”
    I’m too stunned to answer.
    “I should’ve known,” she seethes. Then she turns to glare at Connor. “I faked all my orgasms, asshole!!!”
    “Sure you did,” Connor chuckles.
    Her face wrinkles with disgust. “Fuck you!” She grabs the bed sheet and yanks it from his waist before wadding it and throwing it in his face. “You piece of shit!”
    The sheet tumbles to the ground as the woman saunters down the hotel hallway. It’s the most hateful Walk Of Shame I’ve ever seen.
    Despite the drama, Connor still leans casually against the doorframe like nothing happened.
    Except he’s completely naked.
    I’m staring right at his huge—
    “Can I have this?” Romeo asks, squatting to the ground at Connor’s feet while reaching tentatively for the crumpled bed sheet. “No, seriously, can I