Unethical by Jennifer Blackwood Page B

spend tonight with the one person I fought to forget. “Don’t you want it to be just the two of us?”
    Jules looked up at me with big doe eyes. She chewed the inside of her lip and said, “Payton had a really bad day, and I was hoping this would lighten her mood.”
    I bit the tip of my tongue and held back a chuckle. After the glares she sent my way in class, I could confidently assume I was the last person she wanted to see, and possibly the person at the top of her hit list. So much for making amends. I tried to be nice, tried to stick up for her dad when that brown-nosing chick ripped him a new one, and look where that got me. She was even angrier than before.
    And then it occurred to me: I’d stuck up for someone who didn’t give a rat’s ass about me. This needed to end. I needed to push her away. And if pissing her off meant saving my heart from religious persecution, then that was what I had to do. And this seemed like the perfect opportunity.
    “If you think it would make her happy.”
    Forty minutes later, we all piled into Betty and drove south on the interstate, en route to the drive-in. Payton hadn’t said a word since she jumped into my truck.
    The air vents circulated her perfume through the whole cab, like the outside air continuously pumped in gallons of the sweet scent. The same stuff she’d worn since junior year. The one I bought her for Christmas. Payton had gushed on about this perfume in a flower-shaped bottle, and since I lacked the early-gift-buying gene, I slid my way across town to the mall on December twenty-fourth, almost wrecking Betty on my way home because of a fucking blizzard. Only an idiot would go out to get perfume for a girlfriend in a snowstorm. Or a guy who wanted to make his girlfriend happy.
    My shoulders relaxed into the seat as I thought of all the good times from when we dated in high school. Especially in the back of my truck where she and Andrew were now sitting a little too close for my comfort level.
    Damnit, Hiller, you’re supposed to be pushing her away, not thinking about her.
    “Thanks for inviting us, bro.”
    I tightened my grip around the steering wheel. If it were up to me, the jackass would be at the frat with one of his call girls, not in the backseat of my truck. “No problem.”
    “Yeah, thanks.” The edge in Payton’s voice conveyed about as much enthusiasm as someone getting mauled by a pack of raccoons. With rabies.
    We pulled up to the gate and paid our admission, and I drove the truck around the lot to find a good center spot. I backed into a space, then we piled in the bed of the pickup with sleeping bags and pillows that I had packed.
    Jules nestled in a sleeping bag at the front of the truck bed and leaned her back against the rear window. She patted the spot next to her, and I sat. The sleeping bag swished against my jeans as she adjusted herself closer to me, her leg bouncing rapidly. Damn, she probably loaded up on Oreos before she met up with me tonight. Was this girl always on a sugar high?
    She rested her head on my shoulder, and her hair smelled like a vanilla wafer. My stomach gurgled, and I realized I’d forgotten to eat dinner that night. After classes, I spent most of the day at the library, only going home with enough time to get ready for my date. By the time Jules came over, Marty, our chef, had packed away the food.
    I pushed off the truck bed and stood. “I’m gonna get some popcorn. You guys want anything?”
    Jules said, “A Coke sounds good. Don’t be gone too long.” She kicked my foot and winked.
    At the foot of the pickup, Andrew stood behind Payton and wrapped his arm around her stomach. “I’m good, bro.”
    My fingers curled into a fist.
    This is for the best. You want Jules, and Payton wants Andrew.
    Payton wriggled her way out of Andrew’s grip and said, “I’ll come with.”
    We walked up to the concession stand in silence and stood in line, waiting for the next available employee to take our order. I