Dirty Little Girl

Brian’s P.O.V.

I walked into the kitchen in boxers and no shirt, looking around for the room service menu. We were going out to eat later, but I didn’t want to wait. I glanced over and saw Matt staring at his iPhone, a picture of Heather smiling at him on the front. I popped a beer and dropped down next to him on the couch, turning on the TV even though we were just going to end up ignoring it. “Man, just ask her out.” I tipped the bottle back and drank.

“It’s not that fucking easy,” he grumbled, changing the screen to scroll mindlessly through his Contacts.

“You’ve liked her for two fucking years- man up and do it. It’s not that hard.” I scoffed, drinking more.

“Yeah it is,” he snapped irritatedly, glaring at me. “She got out of a shitty fucking relationship last year and hasn’t dated anyone since. And I don’t want to fuck things up with her, because I like having her around. If she ends up leaving, you shouldn’t forget that Bri would probably go with her.”

That shut me up. “Just try, man.” I muttered, for his sake. But the main reason was that I was tired of girls storming out of our house pissed off because Matt screamed Heather’s name instead of theirs. Some actually start to break our shit and we have to haul them out.

I got up to toss the beer and get another one when Matt stopped me. “What happened to your back, man?”

I smirked as I walked to the fridge. “Maybe the little piece of heaven you’ll get if you finally hook up with Heather.”

He rolled his eyes and I tossed him a beer, which he caught without looking. I knew I had scratches down my back but they didn’t bother me. I couldn’t wait til I saw Bri again, actually.

Heather’s P.O.V.

I decided to test the waters with Michelle, to see what my sister was up against. The four of us, Lacey, Bri, her and I, were going to the lower-end designer stores- still hella expensive stuff but not quite at the Prada level. We’d gone through Guess, Ed Hardy, Coach, Bebe and Juicy, and all of us had more or less the same taste in style. The only differences were that Lacey liked flat shoes, I was crazily in tune with the latest trends which I proceed to force onto my sister, and Michelle goes for the way more revealing clothes. I can’t really call her a whore for that, because let’s face it- we all end up wearing that at some point in time.

I asked her about her relationship with Brian, and she was getting increasingly frustrated that he was ignoring all of her calls and texts. Bri, on the other hand, was smiling in her own little bubble of text, undoubtedly flirting like crazy with Michelle’s…boyfriend? I’d have to confirm that with Brian later.

I insisted on going to Fredrick’s of Hollywood, because it is the most amazing store ever invented to mankind, and Michelle asked me if I had a boyfriend. This was a bit of a touchy subject for me, as my last boyfriend resulted in disaster, and I hadn’t dated since then. I only wore beautiful lingerie and sleepwear for myself, as the rare and occasional hookup was never something I dressed up for.

“No, I don’t.” I answered shortly. Lacey knew the gist of what had happened, and shot Michelle a warning look. Apparently, she was a dumbass, because she ignored it.

“Why not?” she pressed, “It’s not that no one’s asking you out is it?” Michelle placed a hand over her chest in mock-sympathy. “Honey, it’s okay. I can set you up on a blind date- you don’t need to feel depressed over something like this. We can pull through together.”

From the corner of my eye, I could see Bri torn between hysterical laughter and dragging me away before I punched the bitch in the face. “I’ll find a guy when I feel like it,” I answered coolly, before turning my back on her and paying at the register. I had a huge armload of silky nightwear and matching robes, along with bra-and-panties sets. I never bothered to try them on after the first time I visited the store- I had a good eye and everything always fit perfectly.

I shook my head as I walked into the changing rooms with my sister in tow, hearing Lacey by the entrance with Michelle trying to convince her that I wasn’t a lesbian. I was a bit more of a party girl than Bri, but I was also usually the girl who got into fights with people at parties. Alright, maybe a couple of them resulted from me hooking up with some girl’s boyfriend, but how the hell was I supposed to know? Either way, I was tired of the drama that came with dating and I was taking a long break.

I tried on a black Adriana chemise and pushed a purple Embroidered Babydoll Lingerie Set at my sister. I didn’t really dictate her wardrobe, but I did pick a lot of her lingerie. Wearing the skimpy nightdress was just an excuse to take a breather from Bitchy Blonde Nightmare outside- I knew it would fit and look good. I turned to Bri and my eyes widened.

“What? What!?” her eyes widened self-consciously at my astonished eyes and started turning in front of the mirror to see what was wrong.

I folded my arms, calm again, though my sister was still perturbed. “Seriously, what did I tell you about guys getting territorial when they leave marks?”

“Marks? What marks? I don’t see any marks.”

I gave her a slightly scathing stare. “One bite mark, eight scratch lines and four hickeys. What am I going to do with you, Bri Anderson?!”

Bri rolled her eyes. “You’re a creep, you know that? No one can notice that many small details at once.”

Creepy, that’s what I was thinking about Matt, I thought to myself. Oh well.

“Whatever,” I reached inside my bag to grab a cooling crème to dot over the hickeys and bite marks, which should rid her of them in a day or so, and the scratches maybe two.

“Stop babying me,” Bri complained. “There’s nothing wrong with them.”

“Only cause I love you,” I kissed her cheek before dropping the tube back into my bag and changing quickly back into my clothing. Bri kept grumbling about how annoying I was. Something at the end caught my attention though.

“What was that?” I held the dress in one hand with my bag in the other, but managed to put my hands on my hips.

“I said you should start worrying about yourself. You know what they said in Get Smart- if you stop having sex for too long, your insides are going to shrivel up and-”

“-Get Smart is an amazing movie! Stop mis-quoting it and killing the lines!” I scolded. I loved that movie- and how dare she accuse me of not having enough sex!

We paid and followed the girls out, as they were insistent on going to Victoria’s Secret, and walked behind them with Bri. “You,” I told her, “Are going to help me take her down emotionally and therefore physically, once Brian breaks up with her. Otherwise, I’ll just skip the breakup and toss her over a cliff in a bodybag with rocks.” I said, changing the topic. She knew I wasn’t budging on my personal life, and sometimes I feared she would do something drastic, like set me up in an arranged marriage. Not that it was legally possible to do so, as far as I knew, and thank the Lord for that!

Bri laughed, quite accustomed to my bloodthirstiness. I actually hadn’t gotten into a fight since college- and now was a good a time as any to polish up my skills. Lacey suggested that we leave the mall, and I suppose that was a good idea- the faster Bri officially got with Brian, the smaller the chance of my getting arrested for Michelle’s murder.