Page 27 of The Boyfriend Experience

“Why do you think I don’t date? It’s because no matter who I go out with, she finds out and steals him away.”

“She didn’t come on to me today.”

“No, of course not. But she will. And even if you think you like her, and it’s your job to seduce her—don’t fall for it. She just wants what I have. She doesn’t want you.”

“You realize that’s a little bit—”

“Paranoid?” I laugh. “Just wait.” I turn my back to him and cross my legs, swinging my foot in irritation. “I’m not paranoid. This has been going on since freshman year. I know her better than anyone. She’s fixated on me. On my success, or my luck, or my family, or whatever. She takes what I have, not because she wants it, but because she doesn’t want me to have it. It’s that simple.”

“So that’s your end game? Get her to fall for me. Then what?”

“The Capitol Hill Beer Fest is next Sunday. You can enter a beer for consideration up until the night before because the tasting is all done live in front of a crowd. So I’m going to enter Bucked Up and see what happens when the tasters all have to sample two of the very same beer. Because I already know she’s entered Buffed Up as well.”

He scratches his neck, like he’s thinking about this. “Is that the only entry you have?”

“No.” I sigh. “Assassin Sour Saison is my grand reserve special edition beer this year. That’s my main entry. But there’s no way she’s brewed a saison. She doesn’t have the talent to come up with a sour recipe, number one. And she’s her only brewmaster. Buffalo Brews is small. She has a very small bar up in Boulder and doesn’t employ an entire department for research and development like I do. Oh, and did I mention the name of her label? Buffalo Brews.” I huff again. “Do you see how she stole my name too?”

“No,” he says, getting off Sixth and heading north on I-25. “You’re called Bronco. She’s called Buffalo.”

“Yeah, but it’s similar.”

“Not really,” he says.

Which just pisses me off. How does she do that? Get people to trust her? Give her the benefit of the doubt? Play devil’s advocate?

“Well.” I laugh. “There’s no denying that Buffed Up is shamelessly copying Bucked Up. And do you know she tried to file a trademark for Buffed Up?”

“So?”

“So? It’s blatant brand confusion! She knows people won’t know the difference!”

He sighs. And it pisses me off because I’m right, goddammit! I’m not crazy!

“Anyway,” I say, brushing off my anger and irritation. “There’s no way she’s gonna enter a sour saison this year. Even if she knew I was brewing one, she can’t replicate it. It’s a long, long process. And I’ve had that recipe hidden in my apartment since I came up with it. I brewed it up myself. I’ve had those tanks and yeast under lock and key for the past three years as it aged. I have personally overseen the entire process—from yeast incubation to bottling. You’re the only one who has even seen the label. She didn’t steal that one.”

“Which is why I only did the blind taste test on three beers last night, not four.”

“Exactly. She doesn’t have it. And she doesn’t know I have it either.”

At least I tell myself that. I need to believe it. Because if Hanna Harlow got her hands on my sour saison recipe I might fucking kill her. Like for real blow her fucking brains out.

“Sometimes I think she knew about me, ya know?”

“No,” Law says. “What do ya mean?”

“Like… she went to CSU because I was going to CSU. She knew about me. Somehow. And planned all this.”

“Oaklee,” he says through a laugh. “That’s not paranoid, that’s crazy. How would she know about you?”

“I’m the heir to Bronco Brews!”

“Yeah, but so what? I mean, why the hell would she fixate on you?”

“I dunno. But it was all perfectly laid out. The roommate thing. And why would she be a microbiology major? She sucked at it. And I could always tell she was never really interested. She only passed microbial genetics because she cheated off me on the final.”

“Maybe she really did want to save the world from malaria?” he says.

“I’m not fucking crazy, OK?”