“Oh—cool. Well, have fun.” The electric blue of his eyes that was so captivating seemed to lose its brilliant luster.
I sighed. I was being suckered by a pair of eyes. “I have a poker game at my house tonight with some friends.”
His face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. “Poker? I’ve been known to play a few hands,” he said, looking hopeful.
Before I could even stop myself, I asked if he wanted to join us. It was the damn eyes. Like I said before, they were my kryptonite. Trent accepted before I could even attempt to retract the invitation.
Oh hell. What did I do?
12.
If I hadn’t needed my feet to drive, I would have kicked my own ass all the way home. Two weeks of keeping Trent at arm’s length completely down the tubes.
I needed to vent. Picking up my cell phone, I opened my contacts and tapped the name at the top of the list. “I hate you, bitch¸” I said as soon as she answered.
“What did I do this time?” Brittni asked, laughing.
“You brainwashed me.”
“Well, honey, you had to know that was my ploy all along. But, just so I know, how did I brainwash you?” I could picture her sitting on the couch rolling her eyes at my dramatics.
“With Clark freaking Trent.”
“Who?”
“Trent James. Don’t act like you don’t know who I’m talking about.”
“Sorry, my sweet foul-mouthed friend. The name wasn’t ringing any bells.”
“Seriously? Clark Trent is brilliant. You know, like Clark Kent?” I said. Then I realized it. He was turning me into a nerd. My life as I knew it was ending.
“Okay, I get it now. Tutoring starting to wear you down?”
“No,” I snapped. “I mean—maybe, I guess.”
“Well then, what has your thong all in a bunch?”
“I invited Trent to my apartment tonight.”
“Oh my. Is it me or are things heating up?” she purred.
“Stop. We won’t be alone.”
“Oooh, trying a little kinky college experimentation, look at you.”
“Can you stop being a perv for a few minutes?”
“What’s that phrase about people in glass houses?”
“Brittni, this is serious. In an hour, Trent will be hanging out with my friends and me while we play poker. With anybody else this wouldn’t be a big deal, but we both know Trent’s not going to see it that way.”
“So, why is that such a bad thing?” She laughed when I growled over the phone. “Okay, seriously. Tressa, I love you like a sister, but your dating snobbery is getting a little old. You’ve gone out with every dickhead who’s ever asked you out. Meanwhile, when a nice guy comes around, you don’t even want to give him a chance. It’s time to pull on your big-girl pants and go out with someone who doesn’t treat you like a doormat.”
“I’m not a doormat.”
“Exactly my point. I dare you to go out with him,” she said, raising the stakes.
“Brittni,” I warned.