The Player Next Door ✓

27 | Ice Cream Personality

Chapter 27: Ice Cream Personality

Bottles of coconut rum, vodka and pineapple juice were scattered across our kitchen counter. My mother was using her cocktail shaker to strain the liquid into martini glasses.

She accidentally spilled some.

"Can you mop that up, Millie?" she asked, sipping her bikini martini.

I was already scooping stray ice cubes into my hands. I dropped them into the sink. Mother poured another one for my sister.

Flora was in the backyard, soaking up the sun for a glorious tan. It's amazing how one woman could give birth to two such genetically diverse people. Flora was gorgeous, and I was not. Flora was arrogant, and I had nothing to be arrogant about.

"Matt asked me out last night. He's picking me up for a movie date at 5," Flora said, coming inside to pick up her martini.

For the record, that's not the boy she was blowing in my red chair.

"Isn't that a bit early?"

"What do you know about dates Millie? No boy has looked twice at you."

She had a point. My ex hadn't exactly been exclusive.

Anyway, I didn't mind. There is nothing better than having nothing to do. No stress. No problems. I didn't have to change out of my pajamas. I could eat what I wanted, where I wanted – no judgments from anyone. So out came the cookies and ice cream.

I received a text from Julia. Sorry, I can't make it over tonight. Lexi's having the girls over at her place. You can come if you want.

I messaged back, Would Lexi mind?

Julie took twenty minutes to respond. I spent my time productively staring at the wall.

She said you'd have to bring sthg. Like guac.

I know what that means: don't come.

That's ok. I'm pretty tired anyway. I waited for Julia to respond but she didn't, so I added, Have fun.

When 5pm rolled around, Flora sauntered over to the front door and jumped into Matt's car. He hadn't even come out of the car to say hello.

I stayed on the couch, watching TV show reruns. I waved goodbye to my mother, who also had evening plans. She was going out for drinks. More drinks.

I wasn't expecting anyone at home for a while, so I was surprised when the doorbell rang. I shook the cookie crumbs off my pajamas and got up. I had passed out on the couch and there were red lines on my face from where I'd pressed into the cushions. 

 I opened the door without checking who was there.

"Did you forget somethi-"

Oh.

My.

God.

"Luke?!"

There he was; the 'too hot for a daytime fantasy' neighbor. The 'I contribute to global warming I'm so hot' boy next door.

"You do know that it's daytime right?" he stared me up and down, "You look like a mess."

I held the door and ignored his judgment. This wasn't my first time dealing with Luke Dawson. "You have my number. You could've texted."

"I could've." He shrugged and walked in, uninvited.

He stood in my living room for the first time. He was curious what our house looked like. The TV was blaring old OC reruns. There were Chinese foo dog statues on either side of the entrance. A bowl of fake crystal were on the coffee table. He didn't comment on anything, he just took it all in.