Jax

[dos]

[dos]

“So,” Casey hummed, “describe him again; I don’t think I got a clear picture in my head.”

I laughed, shaking my head as I sat down on the bed and twirled my hair around my fingers. “Cas, you’ve asked me to describe him five times already!”

She laughed, probably rolling her eyes and said, “You’re supposed to be my best friend, Lele. You out of all people know how much I love looking at those smexxi creatures and if you say that Mr. Stranger is as sexy as he is, then I want to make sure that I can dream about him tonight.”

“He is pretty sexy. What is it that you call them? Sex on legs?” I grinned, turning to lie on my stomach and kicked my legs in the air.

Casey let out a loud chortle, making my grin widen as she impersonated her best Yoda voice. “I’ve thought you well, young grasshopper.”

“What about you? Any hot guys in Lockhaven?”

“Girl,” she sighed, sobering up, “I think that the big man locked them all up in heaven. The hottest guy here is a professor who goes for the same team we do. Bruh, I was so disappointed when I heard him talking to this girl about how he loved his husband.”

I laughed, tapping my fingers on my stomach and said, “That sucks.”

“Tell me about it,” she muttered, sounding completely unhappy, “shĭt hit rock bottom. I’ve resorted to my hand. Lacey,” she spat as if it were a sin, “my hand! I need to get laid sometime soon or I swear that the adult store downtown is going to get rich from all the shĭt I’ll buy.”

Casey was a sex maniac. She was only eighteen and had already experienced half of the things in erotic films. I wasn’t so innocent, but compared to Casey, I was a saint. She had sex inside a church.

During that entire week she felt so guilty she swore that St. Peter was going to strike her with lightening. Nothing happened and the church had been abandoned years earlier, but she was still petrified.

“Lacey,” she snapped, “are you listening to me?!”

Even though she couldn’t see me, I felt my cheeks heating up a bit and said, “Yea—no.”

“Bĭtch,” she huffed, “I was saying that if I have to start spending my fücking gas to go up to Lockwood and shank Mason; I will.”

Mason was a Wolf from our pack; he was Casey’s boy toy and he loved it. They had been sleeping since she was sixteen [crazy, bĭtch] and they surprisingly never dated. Casey was a firm believer on fücking before loving; feelings weren’t exactly her “thing.”

“Hey,” her voice turned sickly sweet, “have you seen Mason lately?”

I shook my head, even though she couldn’t see me and said, “Nope.”

Casey grumbled under her breath. “Humph, motherfücker has been sėxting me every night but doesn’t have the balls to come fück the living shĭt out of me. Do you know the kinds of needs a girl has? Honestly, I feel like my hand is going to get arthritis from all of the…”

I tuned her out. Casey was very open about her sexual life, she was proud of it. She wasn’t a whore; she only slept with three people in her life, but she didn’t mind talking about it.

She was my best friend, but sometimes she shared details that I didn’t really need to know. For instance, I had stayed over at her house for a movie night and she compared Mason’s area to be as hairy as his Wolf before she forced him to shave.