Destiny's Detour (2 page)

We stare at each other a few minutes.

“Look Troy, last night was… Well, it was hot and it was fun, but it really doesn’t have to change things. It’s not like we are confessing our undying love for each other to my brother. We’re both adults and we had fun, right?”

He has a dumbfounded look on his face as though he isn’t sure what to think. In all fairness, it does seem as if I am being too calm about everything that happened, but really, what is the point in getting all worked up over it. Right? Right, let's go with that right now.

“You’re right. It’s only a big deal if we make it a big deal. Well, I guess I better get to my room before anyone notices,” Troy finally says.

I smile; showing him everything is good between us. Once I am sure that he has made it back to his room and his door clicks shut, I make my way to Amy’s room.

When I open the door to her room, her blonde hair spread out around her on the dark pillow is the sight that greets me. Since she is still wearing the same clothes she had on yesterday, she must have passed out at some point during the night. As usual, Amy’s room looks as if a typhoon has gone through it. Clothes are tossed everywhere. A shirt lays crumpled on top of her armoire and panties hang from the lamp. How the fuck does she manage to do this every time she gets dressed? I shake my head, not because I am a neat freak, but compared to my best friend, I look like Ms. Clean.

I chuckle and shake my head.

“Nice.” I nosedive onto her bed and know she is awake by the muffled groan that escapes as I land beside her. “Get up, Bitch. 911 BFF Emergency right now. We have shit to discuss and I need food. ASAP.”

Amy turns over. She can tell by my face alone that this is serious. She hops out of bed, showers, and gets dressed in 15 minutes flat. I knew I loved this girl for a reason. We are at the IHOP 10 minutes later, trying to figure out what is best for the hangover that is still kicking both our asses right now.

As we wait for our food, I let the bomb drop.

“Sooo ... I slept with Troy last night.”

She looks at me and smirks.

“Really, how exactly did that happen?”

I explain to her about the game, the kiss, and then the full on tongue fucking that leads to us having sex.

“I woke up with him still lying in bed with me,” I finally say.

“Wow, Destiny! Ok, so I gotta ask. Was it everything we used to hear it was back in high school?”

I laugh. Only my best friend would ask me how good it was.

“Everything is still kinda fuzzy, but if the slight soreness is any indication, Troy was everything they said and more.”

“Honestly, if it was anyone else, I would be begging for repeat performances. It’s just a little awkward sleeping with your brother’s best friend.”

She laughs, and so do I, because we both know I really don’t care. If I want to sleep with him again, I will. I am not cocky or stuck up, but I know I am pretty. I have the ability to get a guy’s attention if I want to. Plus, when I set my mind to it and I want something, I will get it.

I am going to have to be very careful with this situation because it’s not as if Troy is just any guy. He is David’s best friend and our roommate. He is not the kind of guy to have a casual fling with because too much can go wrong. I will just have to be content with the memory of a great night with him and go on to a new adventure in college life.

As we finish up our breakfast, we begin talking about dance practice that starts this week. We are members of our University dance team. It is also the reason we are at school a month earlier than most students are. It is exciting; we will be performing at the football games, basketball games, and other school events. Amy and I have been dancing since we were 2 years old. There isn’t a dance style we don’t know or can’t learn. After four years on the high school dance team, and our senior year as co-captains, this year we are back on bottom, so to speak. As freshmen on the team, we are at the bottom of the totem pole.

Of course, talking about dance team leads us back to the football team, which leads us back to Troy and David. Both are starting football practice this week, also. Everything is intermingled. Lucky me. As I think things over, it is slowly becoming a good thing that dance and football practices start this week. It will make it easier to keep this casual with Troy. I don’t need any relationship drama my first semester at school. I just need fun.

Amy and I arrive back at the house, and as we enter the door, we’re giggling about the cute guys who live next door that were checking us out as got out of the car. They must be football players, too.

David and Troy are in the living room as we come in, sitting on either end of the black leather couch. I look around the room, noticing beer bottles and other assorted trash left over from the party.

“Hey ladies! Where have you been?” David asks.

“We went to IHOP. Best hangover food ever,” I answer happily, causing everyone to laugh.

“Why didn’t we get an invite?”

“Well, my dear brother, you were still asleep, and I wanted to enjoy my breakfast, and your ugly mug would have hindered that.”

“Haha,” he says as he flips me the finger.

Amy and I join the guys for some TV before deciding that we really need to clean up the house from the party. This place looks like a war zone. The downstairs is completely wrecked. Thankfully, we kept the upstairs off limits. The living room, dining room, and kitchen didn’t fare as well, though. The amount of beer bottles and plastic cups is alarming. There are bowls of left over chips, empty pizza boxes… Is that a red lace thong hanging from the dining room chandelier? WTF! The wood floors are disgusting. I swear drunk people have no idea how to keep the liquor in their cups. Partying with most of the football team last night was interesting, if nothing else. Those guys can put away beer and pizza.

After nearly four hours of cleaning, I decide we are so hiring a cleaning crew next time. It would make things so much easier. Having money does have its advantages, sometimes.

I head to my room for a short nap after promising everyone that I will fix us all dinner when I wake up. This makes everyone happy since cooking is definitely my thing.

Two hours later, I wake up to find that Amy has decided to head to the mall, and David and Troy are hanging out with the guys from next door. They are playing video games in the living room.

I make my way into the kitchen and begin laying everything out for dinner. I love my kitchen. It is my favorite place in the whole house. Marble counter tops and shiny, new, top of the line, stainless steel appliances compliment the gorgeous, white, weathered cabinets. There is this beautiful picture window over my sink. The walls are warm gray color that just helps the room glow when the sun shines in it. It is definitely my second happy place and one of the greatest presents that my dad has ever given me.

I am craving Italian, so I decide on homemade lasagna with salad and garlic bread. I think this will work out best since we have extra people here. I flip on the radio and start the prep work. I have just put the finishing touches on it and placed the pan in the oven when I turn around to see all four guys watching me.

David is wearing his trademark smile. I always love when he directs that smile at me. It lets me know he loves me and is proud of me. David has always been my protector and best friend as we’ve grown up. He also will be the first one to tease me mercilessly. It’s all good though because I wouldn’t trade my brother for anything. The other three are looking at me with smiles that say something different. You have to love that old saying that the easiest way to man’s heart is through his stomach. Well, any man would be lucky to have me, because I love cooking as much as I love dancing.

“Hey, boys,” I say brightly at them. I receive a chorus of hellos. “Dinner will be done in about two hours, and there should be plenty for everyone.”

I saunter back upstairs to my room. My bedroom is probably my favorite room in the whole house. I have spent a lot of time designing and shopping for everything in here. The black bed frame with the beautiful ornate headboard looks perfect with the deep purple and black bedding that I love. I am a huge fan of the color purple. If it’s purple, chances are I will like it. I have a plush, black loveseat in front of the bay window littered with purple throw pillows. I insisted on having it in my room so that I always have a comfy place to relax or study.

Amy arrives home about thirty minutes before dinner and comes barreling into my room. “Did you see the two hot guys downstairs? Other than the two we live with?”

I grimace at the thoughts of my brother being hot. Ewww, no.

She laughs at the look on my face. “What! He isn’t my brother.”

Throwing a pillow at her, I say, “Shut up, Amy.”

She follows me downstairs to help finish dinner and set the table. I even find a bottle of wine my parents left for us. The guys refuse to drink it and stick with their beers, which is fine by us. That just means there’s more for me. By the end of dinner, I find out that the two cuties, Ryan and Chase, are also on the football team. I think we may have shocked them when Amy and I held our own in the conversation on football. When will guys understand that girls can like sports, too? Ryan is at least a couple inches taller than David is, and his brown hair reminds me of dirt, but he is built like a brick house. He has muscle and mass everywhere. I wouldn’t want to piss him off and have him come after me. Of the four guys, Chase is the only blond, and he’s the smallest, not that there’s anything small about him. Looking at the four guys sitting around the table, I decide I do not want to piss them off. They are a combined 800 plus pounds of muscle and brawn.

To show their thanks for a home cooked meal, the guys clean up the dinner dishes. Amy and I relax and watch an episode of Sons of Anarchy while the guys horse around in the kitchen. At one point during a commercial break, I go to grab a bottle of water out of the fridge. I almost wish I had stayed out of the kitchen. Troy grabs me around my waist, and presses me back against his chest. Oh, it feels good, but it’s not how I want to be with him right now while I try to separate my feelings for him. As he holds me, he hollers out, “David, man, does your sister look dirty to you? I think she needs to be cleaned up, too.” The next thing I know, my loving brother sprays me with water from the sink. I scream. I want to kill him, but at the same time, I can't stop the laughter that escapes me. I manage to get away for them, go upstairs, and throw my wet shirt in the hamper. I pull out a tank top, slip it on, and make my way back to the living room.

We all turn into bed early because tomorrow morning, we start our intense practice week. As I lay in bed, my thoughts drift. I am so thankful that Troy and I are still able to be normal with each other.

The next morning, I wake up ready to get my day started. After a quick shower, I put on a coat of eyeliner and some lip-gloss. There really is no point in going all out with makeup when I’m just going to sweat it off at practice. I pull on a pair of yoga pants with a sports bra and tank top, throw some dance clothes in my dance bag, and head down to the kitchen to grab some breakfast.

Troy is in the kitchen already, pouring himself a cup of coffee. I almost die when the wonderful aroma hits my nose. Coffee is the nectar of the gods. As I make my way over to grab a cup for myself, Troy mumbles ‘morning’.

“Good mornin’,” I say as I look up at him.

While we sit here drinking our coffee in silence, Amy comes dragging into the kitchen. Holding back a chuckle because my best friend will not be human until she gets some caffeine in her, I do not even try talking to her before she has had her first cup. She doesn’t say a word as she grabs a mug of coffee, and a few minutes later, David joins us, yawning as he pours himself a cup, and then leans back on the kitchen counter. I look up because I can feel their eyes burning a hole through me.

“How does French toast and bacon sound?” I ask with a heavy sigh. I get three smiling faces with eager nods to my question. I chuckle. “You’re lucky I love your asses.” As I begin our food, I tell the group, “Since I’m cooking, someone better get everything else ready. I am not your maid.”