Like a Fox (11 page)

“I’m surprised at you, Vicsuyan,” an accent comes out for the first time when she says his name.

“Vikki,” he acknowledges, stepping away from me and towards her. They kiss each other’s cheeks, once on each side.

“Freya,” Vikki smiles and it’s fake as she embraces me the same way as her brother.

I don’t like cheek kissing; I don’t understand it. But then again, I’m not a big hugger either, at least when it comes to strangers. My stiffness only seems to bring her further enjoyment. I’m beginning to think my presence alone is entertaining to her.

We go inside and every single person, male or female, watches Vikki pass, her demeanor not fitting in with the rest of the bohemian/laid back vibe of the place (or this town for that matter).

Ray’s mouth is hanging open as Vic helps her into an empty seat at our table. Vic frowns when I don’t wait for him and sit down myself. I’m not one of those girls who thinks men should open doors for women. I think people should just open doors for everyone; men, women, it doesn’t matter, it’s just the polite thing to do. But helping them sit down? That’s just weird to me and far too old fashioned.

I make introductions. Vikki has a closed-mouth smile as she acknowledges everyone, her eyes glowing like she’s holding a secret about everyone she meets. She has a mysterious element to her and the same allure her brother possesses. Even
I
catch myself staring too long. If she’s anything like her brother, I assume it’s all planned to be that way. She knows exactly what she’s doing by standing out, drawing people in, yet everyone keeps a safe distance, not feeling adequate.

My group of friends don’t know how to act with Vikki and Vic at our table. We all look like children compared to them. We act like them too. The twins are poised, belonging more in an upscale club filled with dirty martinis, men in custom fitted suits, and women who have mastered the art of seduction and high heels, not some shot-taking, beer drinking crowd, where the men are in wrinkly clothes that “smelled clean” off the floor, the women go bra-less in flowing long skirts, and there’s more hemp jewelry than the nineties had chokers.

A few times I catch the two siblings exchanging a glance, communicating to the other with unspoken words.

“I’ll get us some drinks,” Flynn offers, forever the buffer. “What does everyone want?”

We all put in our order and Ray goes with Flynn to help carry them back.

Vikki leans over her brother to speak to me, “Your friends are so cute. How young is everyone?” She makes it sound like she’s not sure if we’re even old enough to enter kindergarten.

I pretend like she isn’t insulting us, giving a factual reply, “Liza and I are twenty-four, the rest are twenty-six.”

Vikki looks to her brother, “You always did like them young.”

Vic’s jaw ticks, “Must run in the blood.”

Vikki laughs and I’m happy to find it’s not only me she finds entertaining. “It must.”

“Sorry if our adolescence isn’t up to your standards,” I deadpan. Vic is only eight years older than me; it’s not that big of a gap. I decide to test her just as she’s doing to me. I turn chipper, with an underlying tone of mocking, “Perhaps you should try the senior center? Tonight is bingo. I hear if you dilute the free prune juice just enough it taste like wine.”

Vikki runs a tongue along her lips, the vibrant red not shifting in color or moving from its place (that’s some damn good lipstick). Her pupils’ dilate, taking up the brown irises, darkening her features.

I make a mental note to remember that Vikki hates being referred to as old. This will be useful information in the future, or perhaps before the night is over.

Flynn and Ray arrive with the drinks, plus an added tequila shot for everyone. I have no plans on drinking more than my single beer tonight. I need to be one hundred percent clear headed in order to survive Vic’s sister.

I’m surprised that Vic accepts the shot glass. I’ve never seen him finish a glass of anything before.

“Namaste,” the group cheers, raising their glass to everyone.

Vikki raises a brow at Vic, whose mouth twitches, trying to hide a smirk of his own.

Everyone downs the shot at the same time. My eyes are on Vic, watching his throat slide it down. He doesn’t grimace like the rest from the cheap taste, acting as if it is a sip of water.

Everyone has lime smiles, keeping them there and making funny faces at each other. Vic stares at them like a father during dinner as his kids are making bubbles in their milk. My wonderful friends could care less, growing more comfortable with the twins around, never ones to really ever care what people think (one of the things I’m most proud of about them).

Vikki waits until everyone is done. She sprinkles salt on her wrist, the movement making her breasts jiggle against the tight black fabric. Her tongue slowly laps it up from bottom to top, peering up at everyone through her lashes. That same hand moves the shot of tequila from the table to her mouth, which is slightly parted in anticipation. She leans her head back enough that it elongates her neck and you can see the liquid being swallowed in a way I’m sure it’s making every man imagine other things going down that same throat. She places the empty glass down with little force, yet with a hard enough
thump
that you know it was no delicate wine glass. At the same time her other hand reaches for a lime wedge, placing it into her mouth, sucking it in, her cheeks hollowing, her lips pouting around it. One. Two. Three times she sucks the juices, leaving little to the imagination on the skills she possesses. She skillfully pulls it out, her lips moving along with it, coating the edges, plumping them to maximum fullness. Red vs. green. Stop vs. go. It plays with your head. A tinge of red remains on the lime, in the shape of her mouth.

The table is silent, staring, processing the scene that just took place.

I reluctantly have to admit that it was one of the hottest, sexiest things I have yet to witness. It was like watching a commercial: “Buy our product and
you
can have the woman of your sexual fantasies, willing to do what no woman before her has.” If it
were
a commercial, their stock just skyrocketed.

Vic rolls his eyes, which has me holding in a laugh; it’s not something I would expect from such a composed person. I’m relieved to know siblings are siblings no matter the background, designed to grate on your nerves.

Maya grabs Flynn’s arm, pulling him up with her as she chugs half her beer. “Let’s dance.”

Maya gains a lot of attention when she dances, her body naturally moving to the rhythm. Flynn’s not so great, but he worships my sister enough to go out there and make a fool of himself.

Chloe and Keith join them, both excellent dancers and a captivating couple to watch.

Liza, who is sitting on my other side, moves her body closer to mine. “How are you handling her?”

I don’t know how to answer, at least not truthfully, not wanting Vic to hear me. Instead I give Liza my “help me” expression, the one we have used on each other as far back as I can remember when we’ve gotten ourselves into a situation we don’t know how to handle.

Liza pats my thigh, eyes meeting mine like this is a co-op affair and we’re about to enter enemy territory, “I’m on it.”

“So, Vikki,” Liza begins gaining the table’s attention. She takes my shot, chasing it with her beer. I know her technique, she’s going to play herself off as drunk. What she really just did was put the shot in her drink (thank you Coyote Ugly), a time old tradition we use so the next day we can play off our crazy behavior as being too drunk. Liza gets up to take the empty seat next to Vikki. “Tell me about that lipstick? It’s like it’s tattooed on.” Liza’s sitting so close she’s all up in Vikki’s personal space.

Vikki leans back as best she can to create room. She opens her mouth but Liza interrupts, coming in closer, “We should totally go shopping, like tomorrow or something. Wouldn’t that, like, totally be awesome? And like, so much fun?” Liza has made it her life’s mission not to say totally and like when she talks, as it annoys the shit out of her when others do it. I swallow back some beer to keep from laughing. Have I ever mentioned how much I love her? Best friend ever.

Vikki opens her mouth once again and Liza cuts her off once again, “O.M.G. Those shoes! Where did you get them?” Liza bends down enough to peek at Vikki’s feet causing the beer in her hand to begin spilling over the top, ready to splash onto Vikki’s lap. At the same time, you can see it loosening itself from Liza’s grip, the condensation making it slippery.

Faster than the scene unfolds, Vikki slides her chair back, maneuvers Liza’s drink firmly into her own hand, and stands, smoothing down her top while taking a drink as though Liza had just handed it to her to sample from.

I glance at the floor, then at Vikki. Not a single drop made its way over.

“Holy shit,” Liza breathes out, saying exactly what I had been thinking. “You’re like a fucking ninja or some shit.”

Ray joins in, having witnessed her sharp reflexes, talking to Liza and I like the twins aren’t there, “She’s like Cat Woman or Black Widow.”

Liza nods her head in agreement, looking far too serious, and I can’t tell if she’s playing around or not anymore, “I agree, but is she bad or good?”

Ray strokes his jaw, “Good question.”

“Bad, definitely,” I can’t help but answer with a smirk.

Ray and Liza examine Vikki some more. Liza seems to be in serious consideration on the matter and Ray looks more like he’s imagining her naked, pure lust in his eyes.

“While you two are deciding my status,” Vikki yawns in boredom, “I need to make a call.”

“Want to dance?” I ask Vic when she leaves.

“You go. I’ll watch.”

Liza and I finish our beers and join the crowd that is getting jiggy with it.

“Thanks for that,” I tell my best friend.

She smiles, giving me a wink, “Didn’t play out how I thought it would, but the end result was the same.”

We get lost in a few songs, dancing our hearts out.

“He follows your every move,” Liza points out, nodding in the direction of our table. I peek over my shoulder to find Vic leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, indeed watching my every move. “I noticed it the last time we all hung out. Maya says he’s been doing it since his first day coming to the café.”

I jolt back, her last sentence taking me by surprise, “She never told me that.”

Liza gives me an apologetic grimace, “I know. She knew it would make you self-conscious if she pointed it out to you and she still feels guilty for pushing Ray on you.”

Maya was right about both. I would have grown self-conscious and probably made a fool of myself from nerves, and she
was
the one to speak up about Ray’s crush on me and how I should give him a chance. I think Maya thought he’d be another Flynn, but Flynn’s mellow surfer mindset was the perfect antidote for my sister’s wild, carefree ways. I didn’t need a mellow guy, I needed a man to bring out my passion and bring the world to life. I needed a man like Vic.

I change the movement of my body, dancing with Vic in mind as he watches from his seat.

There’s something about seeing him aroused by me that is empowering, that has me holding all the cards. In this moment I own him, I am in control of him. A part of me wants to abuse it, to make him grovel at my feet just for a slight touch of the hand, to wag my finger at him and have him come at me on all fours, ready and wanting whatever I’m ready to give, but more importantly, take. It’s like I have him under my spell as I seduce him with my body and the beat of the music. My hips dip lower to the ground in a zig-zag motion, my palms grazing my body.

A man comes up behind me, hands on my body. I didn’t allow them there and I stiffen. Vic abruptly stands, his chair crashing behind him.

“Hands off,” I demand, loud and clear. The man immediately follows my order.

Vic waits a few minutes before sitting back down, his posture and expression still alluding to the fact that he wants to interfere and possibly break bones while he does it. He goes back to watching the show I’m putting on for him, everything a blur around us, the only one in focus is the other.

Vikki whispers something into his ear, coming into view from the blurry haze around my line of sight that is solely absorbed on him.

Vic frowns, nods, stands, and follows his sister outside.

After I few more minutes I grow bored with my lack of intended audience. I go back to our table, drinking the remains of someone’s water glass, not caring whose.

Ray is still in his seat, a disapproving frown on his face, “I don’t like this guy. I don’t trust him.”

I crunch some ice in my mouth to keep from grinding my jaw, “I appreciate that you care enough to worry, but don’t.”

He catches my annoyance yet continues to voice his opinion, “Freya, there’s something not right about him.”

“Like what? Lack of flip flops and a joint?” I’m bitter and my go-to sarcasm has come out.

He flinches from it, “You know what I mean.”

“I do. And I think you’re being judgmental.”

Ray fiddles with a coaster, “He saw me watching you dance, and although he didn’t say anything, he gave me a look.”