I’m not going to say their personalities changed, but Belen has definitely messed with the Fratters’ heads. When I complain to Joy about the new vibe in the Queen, she just laughs.
We’re sharing our first lunch at Don Juan’s since I came back. The familiarity of their deep orange and fuchsia interior warms me. Joy orders a margarita, and so do I even though I’ll be heading straight to advising with Dr. Bergstein afterward.
“What did you think, that they were going to keep it in their pants until you were back from Brazil? No way was that happening. Every guy in the Queen is a virile, handsome devil. Ya know?”
I open my mouth to state the obvious, that handsome devils or not, it’s not common to share a girl. Joy swats me off on pure facial expression. “You’re the one who got them started. Turns out they lo-o-ved having hot, uncomplicated sex with the same woman.”
“It was not uncomplicated,” I clip out.
“You know what I mean. Obviously, they wanted to comfort you, but they had a hell-of-a-good time doing it, and now they’re at it with a different girl.” She shrugs.
“She’s always there, though. I hate her clothes too. If it’s not one of the guys’ oversized, open shirts, it’s a dress that’s so skimpy you get to see three quarters of her balloon boobs.” I rub my temples. “Just, oh my god.”
Joy stares at me, looking wise for her years.
“Fuck. Am I being a hypocrite?”
“You’re the anthropologist.” She lifts her hands, palms up and twisting her mouth for me to see shit for myself... for exactly four seconds. Then, she rubs it in. “Which means: non-judgmental to a fault, objective, descriptive. Dot, dot, dot.”
“Shut up,” I groan, scrunching my eyes shut.
“You’ve always been weird about him, though. You know that, right? You’re a different person when it comes to Luka. And I mean that in all ways, good and bad.”
“No. I... Whatever.”
“Doesn’t Belen have her own place?” Joy takes a sip of her blue curacao slush.
“She definitely does, because she returns to the Queen in new skimpy outfits and outrageous shoes every day. I don’t know what her deal is. Or maybe she owns a slut clothing store and sleeps in the backroom.” I gurgle out a laugh.
“Oh, nice.” Joy juts her lip out. “She leaves Luka alone though, right?”
“She’s in heat, Joy. Belen cannot even walk without sashaying and waving her breasts in someone’s face, and if that someone is Luka, all the better.” I realize how true that is after I’ve said it. I freaking hate that. “Crap. I need to go. After the appointment with Dr. Bergstein, I’m heading straight home.”
“To save your man from Belen’s clutches.” Joy tries to hide a smile behind her giant glass. How did she down so much of it already?
“That’s not funny. He used to work with her.”
“I know. But that’s over, right?”
“Of course. He said it out loud the first night at the house, remember?”
“He did?”
I stare at her. “Yes, at dinner. You were there! He told everyone that we’re a couple. You’ve got an old-lady memory already.”
I try for a smile, but I’m not liking this. Especially not when Joy’s eyes arch, and she takes a moment to respond, “Oh right.”
I bring Dr. Bergstein a Unicorn Frappuccino, and our first meeting, running through my findings, goes incredibly well. With his mustache discreetly smattered with rainbow sprinkles, he says, “Depending on the execution, your first doctoral article could hit home with a top ten anthropological magazine. These findings certainly merit it. Now, all you have to do is write the heck out of it. If you do this right—chop your research into digestible chunks—you could have a series of articles on your hands that can not only serve as the foundation for your dissertation, but get you a series deal.”
Besides his daring Starbucks choices, Dr. Bergstein isn’t the type to exaggerate. It’s why I almost choke on my own drink. “Are you serious?”
“Of course I am. I’m not in the business of planting false hope in my students’ heads. In your case, I’ve read your master’s thesis, and you write well. I believe that with some guidance, you’ll pull off excellent results.”
“Wow. I don’t even know what to say.”
“Let’s see if you can mock up a rough plan for—say, five articles—and send it to me. Does next Monday work as a deadline? From thereon, it would be ideal to get your first article in shape for the April issue of Anthropology Today.”
I nod, unable to speak at first. Then I croak, “Sounds good.”
I return to the Queen on a high. Lenny’s here, giving me a hug and high-fiving me when I burst out my article news. Connor saunters down from upstairs, overhearing me. “I knew you’d make it happen. That’s awesome, Geneva. Nothing can stop the babe!”
I was hoping for an ambience that didn’t reek Belen and sex-drugged Fratters. It’s been a week, now, since we came home, and that bitch picks her timing well. Now, she performs a hip-swaying exit from James’ room on the other side of the dining room, while James zips his fly on the way out.
“Hey, guys. What’s the commotion?” James blinks slowly like he can’t keep his eyes open after having seen the moon and the stars and the heavens above.
“Hey, Belen,” Lenny murmurs, letting her rub against him and lick his ear. “Had fun?”
“Mm-hmm. I’ll have a bite of you too. Arrh,” she hums, showing teeth in a sexy snarl.
He bites the air between them. “You’ll be the death of us.”
“Come here.” Belen ignores me completely as she draws Connor into their hug so she’s squeezed between them. Am I seeing things, or did Connor just dry-thrust her? “Hmm, anyone interested in a standing sandwich?”
Lenny has the wherewithal to send me an apologetic look. He mumbles something to the effect of Maybe later but can’t help palming her butt. I roll my eyes and head to the kitchen. What I need is a glass of wine and a sandwich—no. No sandwich. Leftover pasta, because no one seems to cook anymore either.
I recognize the sputter of Luka’s old car in the driveway. I have to keep myself from running out and hugging him on the doorstep. The engine dies while I pour wine, and my heart speeds up. He’ll be so happy for me. I can’t wait to tell him every detail, including the rainbow sprinkles on Dr. Bergstein’s face while he gave me the best news of my life.
The front door creaks, and I expect his footsteps. Instead, I hear Belen’s voice on the porch. “Hey, lover. Welcome home.”
“Belen. What’s up.” Other than his words not being a question, I can’t tell from his voice how he’s feeling. I’m not going to remain here wondering, though. I take my wine and walk out of the kitchen, through the dining room, and into the lobby. Belen forms an elegant runway-model silhouette in the door opening, blocking Luka’s entry while she mewls intimate chatter I can’t hear.
“Yeah. Well,” Luka says. “It’ll do.”
She laughs coquettishly and throws her hair back. I get her thin flaxen strands in my face.
“Hello, baby,” I say and all but rip the door handle out of Belen’s grasp. I open the door so wide the A/C whooshes out and Luka has tons of room to pass without touching her. God I hate the chick. “You’re home early. Did you get your paperwork filed with the school?”
I curve past Belen, and there might be some swagger to my moves. Luka’s gaze wanders down my body, which suits me perfectly. It makes me coil out a pucker-lipped smile. I feel catty, the way I only do around this woman. It’s a sweet but evil sensation.
“Yeah, I did.” He clears his throat, biting the side of his lip ever so slightly. “I’m all set with the paperwork. Not only that, but I get to fulfill my summer credits with Dr. Bruckster’s Hyperthropic Cardiomyopathy seminar. He’s flying in from Newcastle.”
“Hyperthropic, hmm?” I tip up on my toes, accidentally bumping into Belen’s twin balloons as I suck on his lip.
“Definitely hyperthropic.”
I draw back enough to meet his golden stare. It gleams with approval, and I feel my own smile displace the awareness of the bitch he used to sleep with behind me. She and I, we might have shared a bed with the same guys, but never in the same time span.
I shouldn’t worry about her. She can entertain the Fratters as long as they want. It’s not like anyone is dumb enough to fall for her. She doesn’t realize it, but they’re using her. As much as I’m against sexual exploitation, this is one hussy I’d never defend.
“Your university is expensive, isn’t it?” Belen hums out, and the sound vibrates against my ear. It’s scientifically proven that when there’s too much impact against the eardrum, it tightens and muffles the offending sound. I wish it did that now. Unfortunately, it’s the decibel level and not the despicability of someone that does it, so I hear every word.
“Right. Top-tier medical schools aren’t cheap.” Luka hauls me in and slings a heavy arm over my shoulder. I lean in and tuck my nose beneath his ear. His voice tickles my lips as he continues, “Good part is, I get top pick of residencies too. All I have to do is ace it.”
“My baby is so-o-o smart.” I lilt it out and feel his stomach contract with mirth. “He can work wherever he wants afterward.” I have no idea if this is true, but man, I like saying it.
Belen brings her hands up and lets her fingers dance seductively in the air. “But until then, Luka’ll be a working stiff. Right, lover?”
I zero in on lips that are thick with injections, and my breath stops dead. I’m letting her get to me. It’s exactly what she wants. Luka and I haven’t had this talk yet, but he’s done with filming. It’s a gut feeling I have, and it makes sense because we’re together.
Luka has never been with anyone for more than a few weeks, and we’re different. This is me, his twin brother’s fiancée, the person he’s adored since he first met me. Luka wouldn’t disrespect me by returning to Lucid Entertainment for a measly few classes worth of payments.
“Belen. You mind stepping aside?” Luka says.
“Oh sure. Just, you know, I wanted to give you the news.”
I catch the slight puff of air he expels through his nostrils.
“Haven’t needed you for updates before.” He gestures for us to walk ahead of him. My wineglass is half empty. That happened fast. I glance inside it, but then I stare right at Belen through the glass, and my cattiness drains like sand through a colander.
“Belen, can I ask you a favor?”
“Su-u-re, hun. What’s up?” She blinks jet-black lashes my way.
“Don’t ever call Luka ‘lover’ again.”
“Not even when it’s true?”
“Not even.”
“Belen, give it a rest.” His voice is low but menacing. Why doesn’t he laugh like he did at Lucid when she wanted to get in on the action of the main scene? I try not to yank at his hand. My grasp is still tight enough for him to walk with me.
“You guys having dinner?” James asks, sounding less sex-drugged than a few minutes ago. “I’m about to order Chinese.”
“Sure, Kung Pao Chicken,” Luka says, while I say, “No, we’re good.” My tug on our hold is a jerk this time. I need him upstairs and now.
“Aww, the lovebirds are heading to their love nest.” I must be the only one catching Belen’s sarcasm, because the guys grin. Lenny even waggles his brow. “Could there be trouble in paradise?” Belen’s lips twist in zigzagged amusement.
There’s no way I’m showing her that she’s getting to me. “Actually, make it a double Kung Pao Chicken,” I say and redirect us to the kitchen.
Mild puzzlement flows over Luka’s face. It disappears as he examines my expression. “We’ll need triple rice.”
Luka stays with me in the kitchen while we wait for dinner to arrive. Elbows on the counter, he discusses sound systems with James. Belen disappeared into James’ bathroom to slink into a purple mini-dress that’s cut low on her back, and I love how Luka doesn’t even notice the way it flaunts seventy percent of her lace bra and the top of her thong.
“If it doesn’t make you feel like you’ve got 3D headphones plastered on your ears, it’s not worth the money. I might as well stick to my iPhone in that case.”
“Man, you’re preaching to the choir. With HyperSound, though—You know how it works?” James asks.
“It beams sound into targeted listening areas so people in the rest of the house can’t hear it, right?”
“Yup, it’s pretty slick.”
“Oh that’s handy for when you throw parties and the girlfriend’s asleep.” Belen’s pitch dances through the jab, and I bite my tongue to keep from growling.
Keep it together, Geneva.
The delivery car honks in the driveway.
“I’ll get it,” Luka murmurs and passes me on the way out. He doesn’t look at me, and that’s more disturbing than Belen’s snide comments.
We eat in the dining room like we used to when it was only us. It feels like Belen takes up an entire long side of the table with her slender frame that squirms on the seat as if the goal is to make every male hone in on her. They do too. The only one who doesn’t is my man, the one who’s been with her the most.
I rub at my solar plexus, trying to rid myself of the pit of jealousy. After all, he’s only mine now, and I bet that’s why Belen acts the way she does. She just can’t stand losing.
Luka leans into me and entwines our fingers. His touch is warm. I pull his hand out of my lap and kiss the inside of his palm. Of course Lenny notices and gives us a goodness-how-cute face.
Luka tucks me closer. “Tired?”
“So tired,” I sigh though it’s impossible to relax around that bitch. At the moment, she has her long, greedy fingers kneading Connor’s and Marlon’s thighs at once. I wish she spent more time eating.
Luka stands with a slow stretch that accentuates his purpose. I rise too. My yawn doesn’t feel real, but I hope it does the trick. “All right, guys. Thanks for ordering food.”
“Thanks for paying,” Lenny quips.
“Aww, you’re leaving? I was about to do a show-and-tell on the techniques I’ve learned from the new owner of Lucid. I mean, Isaias’s a monster. Very hands-on.” Belen’s smile becomes studiously seductive. “You need to vary it up, girl,” she adds to me. “It eventually gets boring with same-ole, same-ole, you know.”
Lenny starts to laugh, and I send him a murderous glare while Belen adds, “And the beauty of it? If you don’t, same-ole will get bored of you. Especially if that same-ole is Luka Verenich. Right, lover? You never did have much patience for predictable sex.”
Her hand travels up Connor’s thigh and squeezes the bulge in his crotch. “Plus every guy knows what’s between a girl’s legs can be found everywhere else too. No one’s special. That’s just the way it is.” She rolls a shoulder delicately.
“That’s it,” Luka growls and jerks his head toward the porch. “James. Get her out. I don’t want to see her here in the morning. Baby, let’s go.”
But my heart triple-beats with the truth of Belen’s words. She’s right. I’m not special. Luka can find me in anyone out there, and he has for years. It was different in the jungle. If you’re the only ones likeminded out there, isn’t it natural to gravitate to each other?
He takes the steps two at a time with my hand buried in his. “Don’t let her get to you. She’s toxic.”
While my attraction to Luka grew, the cool side of my brain reminded me of biology, how it could make me find any male attractive. Of all people, I fell for Luka. I told him I loved him. Is this us playing house to compensate for the loss of Julian? Is us an illusion?
I can’t seem to pull enough air into my lungs as he shuts the door behind us. One look at my face, and he locks the door too. It’s just a button, I want to say. I can unlock with the twist of the knob if I want to. Or is he locking the world out? Does he love our micro-world the way I do? Does he need to not drown after Julian too?
“I see you, Geneva. Stop thinking.” He pulls me toward him by the wrists. I’m rigid with fear of a change. My feet do it, move closer with hesitant steps. I don’t come fast enough for him, so he pulls again, and then I’m there in his arms, gasping.
“But isn’t it time we stop and think? We were in the jungle. Everything was different there. The Amazon was made for— Made for—”
“Loving each other?” His stare jabs into me. I want to look away, but I can’t. “Why would it be wrong to start loving each other openly in the Amazon? Why would it be a lesser place to do that? Look at Raka and Makajanti. You think their love is small?”
“It was different for them!”
He drops my hands to lift his. “Right, because her husband died, and his cousin had loved her since they were little. Finally, he had his chance and she loved him back.”
“He was Tujy’s cousin?”
“Yes. But hey, not brothers so that’s different! Also, love in the jungle doesn’t count.” Golden and simmering, Luka’s eyes glue me to him. “Geneva, please.”