"I'll bring them back into fashion," I say, pouting.
Bree throws her head back and laughs. "Of course you will, honey. Don't settle, d'ya hear me?"
"Yes, ma'am."
I spend the rest of my shift ogling Nicole and her look-alike friends, and thinking about Bree’s advice. Nicole is hot in a busty sorority-girl way, but she has fake hair extensions, fake boobs and her clothes suggest she is an exotic dancer (or the least appropriately dressed teacher or business person in the world.)
But maybe I’m just being jealous.
Oh crap, I’m jealous.
I’m jealous of women who sleep with Ty.
I haven’t thought about Charlie Hunnam once this week.
What is up with that? That's it, I'm locking Ty Wilder out of my mind and throwing the key.
Just get this school assignment over with, Blaire. And get the hell out of The Grind.
Chapter Six
Two weeks after I receive Penniman’s assignment, I begin to outline the first draft for my MMA article. I'm nowhere near ready, but for some reason, I'm excited about this task.
I have hard facts and statistics, and I’m going for the gold and have already contacted the chairman of the XWL, Ian Phillips, and his peers.
I’ve visited the The Grind half a dozen times, making good on my promise to Dawson. I still need to ask him a few more things now that I'm more MMA savvy, and I still need to interview Ty because, unbearable or not, he could be the next XWL Welterweight titleholder, and I'd hate to pass on an opportunity like that.
Besides, my intuition cautiously tells me that, for once in a very long time, I’m doing a good job.
But the minute I set foot inside the journalism building, I start worrying about the last time I hung out with Shane. We haven't really spoken since that talk. We’ve both been busy with school and work. Now he is here, earbuds tucked in his ears, bobbing his head slightly as he makes his way down the hall toward the same lecture hall I'm about to enter. He is wearing an "I'm With Stupid" tee with a finger pointing to his crotch. A herd of cute girls hello him shyly, and he stops briefly for a chat, then notices me and plucks out his earbuds.
“How's it going?” He plants a casual kiss on the top of my head.
“Hey, good. What're you listening to?” I chirp awkwardly. I'm not even sure why since he seems cool and pleased to see me.
“Blonde Redhead. Listen, my roomie Josh may be able to hook me up with two tickets to I Prevail this weekend. You game?"
Jesus, of course I'm game. Or at least, I would have been a week ago. Now? I'm afraid it might turn into a date. I bite my lower lip, trying to calculate my next move.
"It's not a date," he says dryly, putting me out of my misery.
"Obviously, I knew that. Sure, I'm in. So how's your research going?" I tilt my chin toward class and we make our way, climbing up the stairs to our usual spots. He runs his hand through his messy blond hair and puffs out his cheeks.
"I called Izzy, but she didn't pick up."
"She's in Asia. You probably called her in the middle of the night. She'll get back to you." But somehow, I'm almost sure she won't.
"You?" he asks.
I blow a lock of hair out of my eyes. "I need to ask Dawson a few more questions and I still haven't interviewed Ty."
"Get it over with, B. Getting all the info and interviews is not even the hard part. Putting it together is the real bitch."
I chew on my lower lip. He's right. I need to get it done if I want to graduate. And I do want to graduate, even if none of my family members actually believe that I will. I make a mental note to pay a visit to The Grind and to yell at Izzy for not getting back to Shane.
Damn, since when did being a responsible grown-up suck so bad?
***
On Thursday, I arrive at The Grind straight from school. Scott greets me at the reception desk with a smile and a fist kiss.
“Stern, Stern, Stern.” He strokes his beard and scans me over like I’m dinner. I guess I attract guys like Scott, with my casual wardrobe and low-maintenance vibe.
“You gonna work out today or are you here for more interviews? Gonna try to force everyone into verbal diarrhea mode again?” He cups his chin with his thumb and index finger, wiggling his eyebrows playfully.
"Interviews," I answer shortly. I'm not in the mood for chitchat, just wanting to get out of here.
"Too bad. There's a circuit training class at four, and it's the hottest class around nowadays." Scott tears open a cardboard box and stocks the shelves behind him with XWL baseball caps.