This Sky by Autumn Doughton Read Free Book Online Page B

warn you up front that I love Hunter Digby. Love ,” she emphasizes, earning a snort from Smith and another horrified look from Julie.
         “Do you not understand why Gemma is here? ” My best friend bends her head and covers her eyes. “She just broke up with the guy. She does not want to hear you talk about how much you love him.”
        “I didn’t say I loved Ren, ” Claudia defends, straightening her posture and kicking her feet out from the couch. “I said that I love Hunter Digby. It’s not the same thing and Gemma seems sophisticated enough to know that.”
         Hunter Digby is the character Ren plays on Howl, a craptastic teen werewolf show that started to takeoff in the ratings about six months ago. Now, it’s a staple show for American girls aged thirteen to eighteen. Viewership is boosted by the fact that Hunter Digby (a.k.a. my waitress-banging ex-boyfriend) is a supernatural hero who spends seventy-five percent of his airtime shirtless, greased up with some kind of oil, and smoldering under good lighting.
        “It’s close enough,” Julie argues, shaking her head and looking exasperated. “And really, Claudia? I would not have taken you for a Howl fan.”
        “I’m aware that it’s cheesy, but it’s deliciously cheesy , so I fully embrace it. Episode ten when Hunter’s father died, I bawled. The goodbye with Felicity, the woodland pixie, at the end of this past season gave me the chills. And that body of his—all that sculpted lean muscle and those arms—booyah!”
        “Like we said—she lacks a fil ter,” Smith tells me. He shakes his head and takes a playful swipe at Claudia’s arm.
         Sure, hearing Ren praised is the mental equivalent of having my skin buffed by a cheese grater, but it’s not like I’m stunned to hear these things.
         My ex has obscenely sharp cheekbones. His smoky green eyes were made to stare deeply into a camera lens. His gratuitous abdominal muscles and shiny golden blond locks are the stuff that legends are born of.  
        I completely get the interest.
        Been there.
        Done that.
     
     

CHAPTER FOUR
     
     
     
     
    Gemma
     
    A few hours and three thousand calories later, the four of us are sprawled around the living room. Weebit’s cage is set up in the corner next to the futon and he’s watching us through the bars as he snacks on some uncooked oats.
         Benedict Cumberbatch is on the TV, pacing in a black duster. A red scarf is looped around his neck, only adding to his air of sophisticated elegance.
        Empty food containers, crumpled cellophane wrappers and a Scattergories game board clutter the coffee table. A little while ago, Claudia disappeared for ten minutes. When she came back, her phone was playing mariachi music and she had a kid-sized sombrero on her head and a pitcher of blended margaritas in her hand.
        I have to admit that despite her crush on Ren, the girl is rapidly growing on me.
         “Badminton isn’t a team sport,” Julie is saying. She’s looking over my shoulder, checking the answers on my Scattergories game card against her own. “Why wouldn’t you put down baseball or basketball, Gem?”
        “Because I was going for obscure,” I answer even though it’s not entirely true. It just sounds better than explaining that I can’t think properly with that little timer ticking off the seconds like a doomsday clock.
        “I put down bowling,” Smith says, frowning down at his own list.
         Julie’s head pops up. Her mouth pulls sourly to one side. “Bowling is not a team sport either.”
        Claudia lifts a finger. “One might argue that it can be a team sport. Look at all those leagues.”
        The next five minutes are devoted to a debate about the merits of bowling as a team sport. There’s some shouting, a few pretzels are launched across the room and a round of penalty shots—the alcoholic kind—are