Puck Buddies Read Online Free Page B

wishing there was a
drink in my hand I could spill on myself and force us out of here. Except
spilling drinks on myself has been officially boycotted since New Year’s. It’s
been added to the list, along with dating celebrities, forcing the staff to
play Cards Against Humanity with me, and wearing workout clothes in public.
    A server comes by as if reading my mind
and offers me my drink, a gin and tonic with double limes. She hands Nat a
crisp green appletini and saunters off, without a single word.
    “We’ve never been here before but she
knows our drinks?” Nat cocks an eyebrow.
    “I guess someone here knows us.”
    “Seriously though, what if William
ordered them?”
    “He didn’t.” I want to say he’s not
gentlemanly enough but putting him down only hurts her feelings. It’s like
reverse, reverse psychology; I insult him and she likes him more.
    “He’s so hot,” she mumbles as she raises
the drink to her lips.
    “And he knows it.”
    He’s also a bit older than we are, which
with him translates somehow into superiority and adds a wonderful accompaniment
to the completely narcissistic way he already carries himself. In comparison, he
makes my entire family appear as if we don't even share a single hair of
conceit amongst us. Which is saying a lot. My dad reminds me of Sir Walter Elliot from Persuasion, another one of the movies Nat made me watch. I didn't
tell her I loved it and have watched it several times since. My favorite is the
one with Rupert Penry-Jones. He’s hot as hell.
    “What?” Nat turns, giving me a sour
frown.
    “What?” Maybe I mumbled something about
hot guys of Austin.
    “You said something.”
    “It was nothing. Oh God, he’s coming
over,” I groan.
    “I know.” Her face lights up, gushing
pathetic crush all over us both. “Do I look okay? Is my makeup too much?”
    “Better than he deserves,” I mutter.
    “What?” She leans in again. “Why are you
talking so low?”
    “I said you look beautiful.”
    Her gaze narrows, but he’s at the table
before she can question me.
    Her bright-blue eyes and pale blonde hair
give her a sweet girl-next-door look that science says guys like William should
fall for, but she’s naive on how to work it, and him. So he works her instead.
It’s been going on since we were twelve, and I don't know how much more I can
take.
    He’s an idiot.
    He doesn’t deserve to wipe the shit from
her shoe, but she’s so beaten down by her mom she doesn’t see it.
    I have nightmares about the day she tells
me they’re getting married and he only hits her because he loves her.
    I hate him. He’s
an asshat.
    But I love her so I tolerate him. Until I
can have him killed off, which is my ultimate plan.
    “ Ladies, how are
you this evening?” William approaches with a grin, speaking directly to me
because Nat’s so into him. He does it all the time, like he enjoys being chased
by her, which is super not manly.
    “Great,” I sneer.
    “Where’s Colin?” He scans the bar for my boy
du jour.
    “He’s home. Reading the breakup text I
just sent before we left the house.” I don’t even blink as I say it.
    “A text? Harsh, Sami.” William laughs.
    “I received an anonymous email with a
link to his Tinder account. His active Tinder account. Nat made a fake profile and asked him
to meet up, and of course he agreed to.” I keep the part where I’m glad I never
had sex with him to myself. Him or Drew. Disgusting
asshats.
    “Holy shit! Tinder! Damn. What an idiot.
The guy’s high all the time. You’re better off,” he adds, like he’s not also an
idiot.
    “Yeah, whatever.” I shrug.
    My eyes drift behind William to the guy
he’s introducing to Nat, “This is a friend of mine, Carson Bellevue.”
    “Sami and I are well acquainted with one
another.” Carson gives me a knowing grin as if a memory has flashed in his
mind. Likely it involves me sitting on his lap while he drives his dad’s
Porsche with the top down. We were top down times