Free PosterBoyForAverage by Sommer Marsden

laugh. “You little hussy! What have you been doing that you’d
need another shower?”
    “Nothing,” Aubrey put the wine cork back in the bottle. “I
just got dirty.”
    “I bet you did!” Now Bradlee was snorting. That was never
good.
    “In the garden,” Aubrey snapped.
    Her sister moved fast, put herself in front of Aubrey. “Ah-ha!”
she said, pointing maniacally.
    “Ah-ha what?” Aubrey asked, biting the inside of her lip.
Trying very hard to keep her face neutral. She reached past Bradlee and put the
wine in the door of the fridge.
    “You had monkey sex!”
    “I did not.” Okay, so that was the truth.
    Bradlee stepped back, tapped her lip. “Okay, maybe not. Not
sex. Um…you did something though. You have roses in your cheeks, as Nana used
to say. And you look like you have a big fat secret that pleases you. You
definitely messed around.”
    Aubrey chewed the inside of her cheek.
    “With Mike Sykes the super-duper roofer.” Bradlee punched
her in the shoulder.
    “Jesus Christ, Brad! I’m going to sock you one,” Aubrey
growled. But then she found herself laughing. “It was not sex.” She handed her
sister a glass. “Come on. Let’s sit on the porch. I’ll ’fess up. Plus anything
will beat watching that god-awful movie you brought.”
    She confessed it all. How her feelings had really been hurt.
How she’d tried to hide it. Rubbing his chest and smelling him and being close
and that other kiss. And then, fuck it all to hell, when he got on his knees
and went down on her.
    A rush of heat spread through her from her breasts to the
crown of her head. She wouldn’t be surprised if she burst into flames any
second now.
    “Goooood Lord,” Bradlee sang, fanning herself even though
the October wind was blowing. “That is a mighty fine story. Could I just admit
I cannot wait for Timothy to get home?”
    “Speaking of home,” Bradlee went on, “I’ll have to get going
soon. Laura will be dropped off in about a half-hour. And you would not believe
how friggin’ punctual the Sandfords are. I imagine them all synching their
digital watches before leaving the house. They’re like a crack burglary team or
something.” She snorted and set her glass on the small wooden table. She
stretched her long legs and settled her ankles on the front porch railing. “I
imagine the dad’s pep talks—‘right team! Let’s get in and get out! No muss! No
fuss!’”
    “You sound like a drill sergeant,” Aubrey laughed.
    “Not quite that bad. He’s very organized, but not strict.
Like I said, they are super-nice and Laura has a ball with them. But I feel
very, um…”
    “Like a hot mess?”
    Bradlee leveled a finger at her. “Watch it, sister,” she
said, but she was grinning. “I feel very disorganized when they’re around. And
now…” She stood and smoothed her long corduroy skirt down. “I will arrive at my
home to take possession of my daughter smelling like wine.”
    “A single glass,” Aubrey laughed. She looked at her watch.
“Over a two-hour span.”
    “Are you going to watch that movie?” Bradlee said. She was
biting the inside of her cheek and trying to look sincere. Aubrey could tell.
    “Good God no.”
    “I’ll come get it then before I hit the road.”
    Inside, she hugged Aubrey. “Give him a chance. He’s a dad of
two kids, one with lots of needs, he’s a roofer, he’s recently divorced and
he’s your next-door neighbor.”
    “So—”
    “So all signs point to ‘run!’” Bradlee piped in. “But
there’s something about him. And you. When you’re near each other. It might as
well have been spray-painted across your foreheads the other night. You seem to
drift toward each other like magnets.”
    “Some magnets repel one another,” Aubrey said.
    Bradlee smacked her lightly on the forehead.
    “Ow!” Aubrey cried.
    “Not those magnets, Aub. The ones that draw each other
close. Stop being such a pain in the ass.”
    With that, she took her horrible movie and