Lying down myself, I pull out my phone and debate what to text, but my phone vibrates before I can come up with something to say.
Oz: I’ve spent the weekend thinking about you.
My heart flutters. I look over at Paige, who quickly looks away from me.
Me: I’m sure you have better things to do than spend your whole weekend thinking about me.
Oz: That’s where you’re wrong, sweet Mallory.
Me: Such a charmer.
I wonder if these are lines he uses on women. I debate asking Paige to read the messages, but decide against it. Keep it fun and light, I remind myself.
Oz: Seems you bring it out in me.
Me: What did you really spend your weekend doing?
Oz: Aside from thinking about you, I worked. Always working.
Me: You found your way out to have a little fun Friday.
Oz: Lucky I did, or I wouldn’t have gotten to see you, gotten a taste.
His words make goose bumps break out across my skin. I bite my lip, having no idea what to say to that.
Me: What are you doing right now?
Oz: Sitting in my office. I finally broke. I thought you’d text me. I tried to hold out, but I couldn’t last.
Me: Sorry, been busy. Unpacking and all.
Oz: Just move?
Me: Yep! Brand-new to this whole New York thing. It’s a little scary but also exciting.
Oz: You have to let me show you around.
I wonder if he’s asking to be friendly, or maybe he’s suggesting a date… I look over at Paige, who is now sleeping. I remind myself of her words. Don’t chase.
Me: Are you asking me out on a date?
I send the text and regret it immediately. Maybe I should have done, like, a winky face or something so it’s more of a tease. Grr.
Oz: Call it anything you want as long as you agree to come.
Me: I’ll think about it.
I wonder whether I should go out with a random man I met for five minutes at a bar, but that’s what dating is, right? Not like I’m agreeing to go to his place or something. We could meet somewhere. Talk a little. Maybe I can try to see how genuine he is. He seems sweet. Too sweet maybe, like maybe it’s a game.
Oz: Fair enough. Think about it over something to eat with me.
Me: LOL. When?
Oz: Now.
Wow, that seems really fast. Here I was wanting him to text me and now he wants to do something right this second. It’s all a game, I tell myself. He’s looking to get laid. I decide to be blunt and to the point. I’m sure that’s what Paige would want me to do if I showed her the messages.
Me: I’m not going to sleep with you.
Oz: Sweet Mallory, sleeping is the last thing I want to do with you.
I clench my phone in my hand, hating that I was right. The disappointment is too strong for the short time I’ve known him. Hell, known isn’t even the right word because I don’t know him. How can he already be taking up so much of my head space? Head space that I should have somewhere else right now. Tomorrow is one of the biggest days of my life. That’s where my mind should be. Not here, flirting on the phone with someone who wants in my panties. His words irritate me, and I don’t like the presumption.
Me: Cocky much? I don’t like cocky.
Oz: It’s not cocky. It’s true.
I take a deep breath and think about my next words.
Me: Sorry, Oz, but I don’t think this will work. I’m not that kind of girl. You’re a hot guy. I’m sure you can dial someone up and get a hookup if you want.
I send the words with confidence. That’s that. But I can’t stop myself from staring at the phone, waiting for a message to come. Minutes tick by and nothing.
Frustrated with myself, I click the sound off my phone before getting up from the couch and scooping up my books and folders. I make my way to my room, tossing the phone and everything onto the bed before grabbing a pillow and taking it back out to the living room and putting it under Paige’s head. I cover her up more with the blanket and turn off the TV.
I go back to my bedroom, strip off my clothes and jump into the shower, running through my nightly routine. Trying to keep myself from checking my phone, I blow-dry my hair, then go and pick out something to wear tomorrow.
I’m worried that what I have won’t work. This seems like the one place I’m lacking at the moment and it’s driving me a little crazy that I might come up short here. I can study my ass off but do I look like I belong? New York City is so glamorous, and everyone seems to have the nicest things. I got all my work clothes from Macy’s, maxing out a credit card because I needed them. And here I stand, still thinking they won’t be up to par. Even the price tags at Macy’s made me cringe. If only Paige and I wore the same size. I could borrow some of her stuff. But she’s pint-size. Luckily, we have the same size feet, so I do get to steal her shoes.