It’s taken me nearly an hour to scrub the oil off me after a particularly messy day at the shop. This final once over is for no reason other than enjoying how it feels to be clean. However, my peace keeps getting interrupted because Cat wants to use this bathroom instead of Jake’s for some reason. Screw it. I beat her to it and she’s going to have to suck it up.
‘Daaaaa-lly!’
For the fifth time, I stick my head outside the shower curtain. This time I yell back, ‘Are you going to steal my towel again?’
Silence from the other side of the door. ‘No.’
‘Then you can come in.’
My first warning that this night’s about to go to hell is Cat’s dressed up. She’s got on a pair of tight jeans and a loose lace shirt that flutters around her waist. It’s modest¸ but on her it looks like a wet dream. She meets my eyes in the mirror as she brushes out her hair. ‘What?’
‘Are you going out?’
‘Maybe.’
‘With Maya?’
She wrinkles her nose and finishes tossing up her hair into some soft bun thing. The style exposes the long, delicate line of her throat and I want nothing more than to taste that soft skin. Her answer does not please me. ‘No.’
My fingers curl around the curtain edge. ‘When’s he getting here?’
There’s a pause in her make-up application. ‘About five minutes.’
We hold each other’s stare in the mirror. Despite my being pissed off that she avoided mentioning her date until this inevitable moment, I can still admit it was well played. I reach behind me slowly and turn off the shower. Her brush wavers.
I need to keep her talking. Lull her into a false sense of security before beating her out of this room to meet the bastard in person. ‘Would I know him?’
She slowly returns to her routine. She doesn’t seem to notice when I slowly pull my towel into the shower. ‘No. We met in a class last semester. We haven’t had time to catch up until now.’
‘Should I wait up?’
Her tremble gives me all the information I need.
‘We’re going out to dinner,’ she says. She’s almost done with her make-up.
The towel’s tight around my waist. When I pull the curtain aside, she jerks toward the door, but freezes when she sees I’m watching her. Stalemate.
I smile and roll my shoulders. ‘Well, have fun.’
Neither of us moves. Then the doorbell rings.
I bolt for the door, but she’s right there with me. She slams the door shut before I can force my way past her. I growl my frustration, but she’s plastered herself against the damn thing.
‘Let me go introduce myself,’ I say, deliberately keeping my voice light.
‘Why? So you can threaten to skin him alive?’ She goes up on tiptoe, which really doesn’t mean much. But it’s cute to see her get all spunky. ‘No, Dally. Not this one.’
Jealousy straightens my spine, leaving me glaring down at her. ‘Why not? What’s so special about him?’
The doorbell rings again.
‘Please, Dally! It’s a night out. Dinner, maybe some dessert.’
Every instinct demands I ignore her pleading and go out to meet this guy. To see if he’s as big a douche as I fear. But she reaches out, placing her hand on my ribs, and her mouth sets firmly in frustration.
‘I’m going out on a date. I haven’t been on a date for a while. I just want to have some fun. Please.’
She hasn’t been out in over four months. Not that I’ve been keeping track. She senses my hesitation. ‘Dally—?’