guys?”
“No, of course not.” I respond straightaway. “Your fiancé died, leaving you with a kid to raise. You’re entitled to sleep with whoever you want.”
“Then why aren’t you? Honest-to-God, it’s two-thousand and fucking sixteen. Nobody gets to comment on your number or how you dress. As long as you’re not hurting anyone else, who gives a fuck who you sleep with.”
“True,” I concede. I’m confused about why I even care; it’s just that I can’t shake the notion that my first reaction to Hooligan meant something. I’ve never felt like that from just looking at a man before. Although, I probably pissed him off beyond repair with my little tantrum before I left.
“All right. This is what you’re going to do,” Amy declares, a big smile on her face. With happy eyes shining brightly and a sneaky smile curling her lips, she looks ready to take on the world. “You love all this fighting stuff? Like you have a belt and you’ve competed before?”
“Yeah, I have and I’ve always wanted to do more. I just don’t have enough time...not with Cooper and work.”
“But that’s the thing, Gabbi. Nate told me that the fighters made serious bank. Even the ones who lose earn thousands of dollars. What if you asked Hooligan to train you to fight? Then you could concentrate on art school and Cooper without worrying about money anymore. You could cut down your hours at the gym if you were making money fighting.”
Excitement grips me. “That’s a good idea.”
“And you can flirt with him while he trains you. Make him see the real Gabbi. Not the party girl you pretend to be when you’re hunting for a man.”
Screwing my nose up at her last sentence, I narrow my eyes and open my mouth to argue. Why does everyone think I’m acting?
“I’m not—”
“Oh, hush now,” Amy chuckles after she cuts me off. “I know you think you’re some hardcore party slut but we both know that deep down you’re just a little girl who’s angry at Daddy. You use men to make yourself feel better.”
“I don’t—”
“Gabbi. Listen to me. If your dad hadn’t left your family in the lurch and your mom hadn’t turned into an A-Grade gambling whore because of that, I’d bet Max’s life that you wouldn’t even give me the time of the day. You’re covered in tattoos and always looking for a fight, or a fuck, because you’re pissed at your dad. Anyone who spends longer than five minutes with you and actually pays attention can see that the exterior is just your protective armor. Babe, underneath it all you’re the poster child for upper-middle class rebellion, except for one little glaring detail.”
My nostrils flare when I drag in a deep breath. Amy’s pushing it. With her comments coming hot on the heels of Jep’s last night, I feel as if the rug’s been pulled out from underneath me. If no one thinks I’m tough or mature, how am I going to pull off my plan of getting Cooper and Zali away from Mom. I need my intimidation factor.
“What glaring little detail?” I spit my question at her from between grinding teeth.
“You wouldn’t be worrying about some guy you just met thinking that you’re a whore for sleeping with nine blokes.”
“Hardy fucking ha,” I fake a laugh. “You’re really annoying me today.”
Determined not to turn this into an argument, I twirl a finger in the air and quip with feigned nonchalance. “Subject change.”
“No, let’s not.” Amy drops the humor, her expression turning serious. “I’ve wanted to say this to you for a long time. I don’t care if you fuck every man you meet as long as you’re okay with it. If it’s just a way to let off some steam, then I’m all for it. But if it’s a way to prove something to your parents, then the only person who’s gonna end up hurt is you.”
Her frank words hit home and I can finally name the feeling that’s been assailing me since I laid eyes on Hooligan. He didn’t make me feel dirty, neither did
“No, of course not.” I respond straightaway. “Your fiancé died, leaving you with a kid to raise. You’re entitled to sleep with whoever you want.”
“Then why aren’t you? Honest-to-God, it’s two-thousand and fucking sixteen. Nobody gets to comment on your number or how you dress. As long as you’re not hurting anyone else, who gives a fuck who you sleep with.”
“True,” I concede. I’m confused about why I even care; it’s just that I can’t shake the notion that my first reaction to Hooligan meant something. I’ve never felt like that from just looking at a man before. Although, I probably pissed him off beyond repair with my little tantrum before I left.
“All right. This is what you’re going to do,” Amy declares, a big smile on her face. With happy eyes shining brightly and a sneaky smile curling her lips, she looks ready to take on the world. “You love all this fighting stuff? Like you have a belt and you’ve competed before?”
“Yeah, I have and I’ve always wanted to do more. I just don’t have enough time...not with Cooper and work.”
“But that’s the thing, Gabbi. Nate told me that the fighters made serious bank. Even the ones who lose earn thousands of dollars. What if you asked Hooligan to train you to fight? Then you could concentrate on art school and Cooper without worrying about money anymore. You could cut down your hours at the gym if you were making money fighting.”
Excitement grips me. “That’s a good idea.”
“And you can flirt with him while he trains you. Make him see the real Gabbi. Not the party girl you pretend to be when you’re hunting for a man.”
Screwing my nose up at her last sentence, I narrow my eyes and open my mouth to argue. Why does everyone think I’m acting?
“I’m not—”
“Oh, hush now,” Amy chuckles after she cuts me off. “I know you think you’re some hardcore party slut but we both know that deep down you’re just a little girl who’s angry at Daddy. You use men to make yourself feel better.”
“I don’t—”
“Gabbi. Listen to me. If your dad hadn’t left your family in the lurch and your mom hadn’t turned into an A-Grade gambling whore because of that, I’d bet Max’s life that you wouldn’t even give me the time of the day. You’re covered in tattoos and always looking for a fight, or a fuck, because you’re pissed at your dad. Anyone who spends longer than five minutes with you and actually pays attention can see that the exterior is just your protective armor. Babe, underneath it all you’re the poster child for upper-middle class rebellion, except for one little glaring detail.”
My nostrils flare when I drag in a deep breath. Amy’s pushing it. With her comments coming hot on the heels of Jep’s last night, I feel as if the rug’s been pulled out from underneath me. If no one thinks I’m tough or mature, how am I going to pull off my plan of getting Cooper and Zali away from Mom. I need my intimidation factor.
“What glaring little detail?” I spit my question at her from between grinding teeth.
“You wouldn’t be worrying about some guy you just met thinking that you’re a whore for sleeping with nine blokes.”
“Hardy fucking ha,” I fake a laugh. “You’re really annoying me today.”
Determined not to turn this into an argument, I twirl a finger in the air and quip with feigned nonchalance. “Subject change.”
“No, let’s not.” Amy drops the humor, her expression turning serious. “I’ve wanted to say this to you for a long time. I don’t care if you fuck every man you meet as long as you’re okay with it. If it’s just a way to let off some steam, then I’m all for it. But if it’s a way to prove something to your parents, then the only person who’s gonna end up hurt is you.”
Her frank words hit home and I can finally name the feeling that’s been assailing me since I laid eyes on Hooligan. He didn’t make me feel dirty, neither did
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