After a perfectly lovely meal at a casual little Italian place he’d suggested, he doesn’t even blink when I say that I’ll hail a cab.
“Can I call you again?” he asks, as we do the awkward linger-in-front-of-the-taxi thing.
“Sure, I’d like that,” I reply, meaning it.
I don’t know that Brandon’s the love of my life or anything, but dinner was nice. I may not be feeling the sexy vibes tonight, but a second date can’t hurt.
“Good,” he says with a slow smile. Brandon has a nice smile.
Then he puts his hands on my cheeks and kisses me, and that, too, is nice.
It’s only after I’m in the cab on my way back home that I realize how often I’m applying the word nice to Brandon.
Nice is fine.
But nice is not…
Nice is not what I’m after.
I want more.
I just don’t know what.
I pay the cabbie, pulling my keys out of my purse as I head toward my front door.
All hopes of a quiet evening with a good book and a glass of red wine are dashed the second I walk in the front door.
Music is blaring, struggling to compete with the TV (also blaring), as well as with the high-pitched din of a bunch of drunken voices.
I sigh as I set my purse on the console table by the front door. Looks like Ben’s big plans of a wild night out on the town have transitioned into a wild night in.
I can’t really blame him, as I’m sure he thought he’d have the house to himself.
I’d definitely given the impression that I’d be going home with Brandon, as was our agreement.
Maybe I can sneak upstairs and he’ll never know….
“Parks!”
Damn. I’ve been spotted.
It’s Ben’s friend John Harris. I haven’t seen him since the night he came over after Lance dumped me, and the details of that evening are fuzzy at best.
“Hey!” I say, pasting a smile on my face. I’ve always liked John. Way better than douchebag Jason as far as Ben’s friends go.
He gives me a hug, and I mentally give him points for not getting handsy despite the fact that my black dress is very, um, tiny.
“Ben said you weren’t coming home tonight,” he said.
Bless him. John’s voice is apologetic, probably because he knows my house sounds like a freaking rave right now.
“Change of plans,” I say with a smile. “Sounds like you guys are having a good time, though.”
“For sure,” he says. “You should grab a drink and join us.”
I hesitate, wanting to go directly to my room.
But John will for sure tell Ben that I’m here, which will then have Ben wondering what the heck is going on, and, even worse, Ben will know that I’m avoiding him.