Free Shark Out of Water (Grab Your Pole, #3) by Jenn Cooksey Page A

instill some pretty fuckin’ serious fear into the hearts of men. And I tell you what, if Hell had a ball team, I bet this guy would be Satan’s first round draft pick for a pitcher.

Seven
    Sunday, Week Two

    Why Indeed ~ Jeff

    Sunday morning I was standing in our bathroom trying to decide if I wanted to look like a badass or a pussy. Katy wants me to put a butterfly bandage on the cut on my cheek. It’s not big and it didn’t bleed a lot, not like my nose, but the force of Pete’s knuckles hitting my face split the skin of my cheekbone wide open. It could’ve been worse though. I’m sure he would’ve busted my honker had he made full contact with it instead of just grazing it like he did. Then I’d have all the fuckin’ swelling and nasty black bruising to deal with and well, there’s nothing badass about walking around looking like you’re the victim of a hack plastic surgeon.
    Fuck it. I’ll make Katy happy and wear the stupid Band-Aid at home, but it comes off when I go out in public.
    “Babe, you’re screwing it up…the whole point of a butterfly is to pinch the skin together so it heals faster,” Katy said when she saw me just stick the thing to my face. Then she ripped it off, causing me to wince but really, I prefer to just get that kind of stuff over with fast and she knows it.
    “You talk to Camie?” I asked her as she unwrapped a new bandage.
    She called Camie last night while I was trying to get my nose to stop bleeding, intending to ask her where she was and if she was okay. She got Camie’s voicemail and it really fuckin’ freaked us both out, but she left a message and about ten minutes later Camie sent a text that said she was home and she’d call tomorrow. Or I guess that would be today…whatever, I have a headache.
    “Yeah, I just got off the phone with her…hold still,” Katy told me as she pulled the edges of my skin closed and fastened the bandage according to the “proper” method shown on the instructions in the first-aid kit.
    “Well? What happened to her last night?” I need to hear the answer to this and ever since Brandon said the guy is bad news, I’ve been hardcore stressing. I’d have a lot of people to answer to for letting something happen to Camie and even if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself so either way it happens, I’m screwed if that guy messed with her.
    “She’s fine. He took her home and that’s pretty much it,” Katy answered as she handed me the ibuprofen and started to clean up the mess I’d made in the bathroom.
    “Pretty much it or it ?” If ever there was a time for specifics, it’s now.
    “Well, here’s the play-by-play she gave me…he got her out of the house, he drove her home and on the way, I guess she was doing that nervous blathering she does and he just listened. She apologized for being such a spaz and explained she just went through a really emotional breakup, she thanked him for the ride home and then he gave her his number in case she ever wants to talk about it with someone who isn’t so close to the situation. She said that he said he’s been through a couple of bad breakups before so he understands. I told her Brandon’s opinion of the guy and she said Brandon’s an idiot. She didn’t once feel like Scott was trying to hit on her or anything, she said he was nice and when he gave her his number, he didn’t even ask for hers in return. So, I guess we all overreacted for nothing,” Katy told me and headed out into our bedroom to make the bed.
    Overreacted. Kind of an understatement if you ask me.
    Regardless of what Camie said though, I know that guy was interested in her last night. He might’ve changed his tune when he witnessed what a train-wreck she is right now, but I’d be willing to bet if she hadn’t flipped out like that, he would’ve put more effort into it.
    “ Humph. Is she gonna call him?” I asked, thinking that maybe she should. If he was cool enough to just listen and offer