I scrub at my hair with a hand and wish I had another option. But I don’t.

‘Have fun,’ I finally get out through gritted teeth.

Her smile is rapturous as she abandons her spot to put her make-up away. I focus my rage at the door, wishing I could rip it off its hinges. But I don’t move for it. Her trust can’t be broken. She ducks out of the bathroom and hurries toward the front door. I take a few deep breaths before I follow her out into the hall, still wrapped in the towel.

The guy greeting her is my antithesis. A polo and chinos. A heavy watch on his wrist. Coiffed hair. The kind of Boy Scout goodness that makes my lip curl. And Cat is going on a date with him.

She waves to me once before closing the door behind her.

She doesn’t want to fuck him. She wants to date him. I don’t know whether to laugh or punch the wall.

The hall clock says it’s only seven-thirty. Looks like I’ll have plenty of time to decide.

***

Dinner with Tom is … boring. I try my best to keep conversation up, but my mind keeps drifting away to a much different man. One who was irrationally pissed off when he learned I was going out. One who I swear looked hurt when I waved goodbye.

‘To be honest, I wasn’t sure you were ever going to call,’ Tom’s saying.

I smile politely at him and take another sip of my water. ‘Things have been busy lately.’

He nods sagely, a foreign behaviour for a guy my age. ‘What are your plans after graduation?’

We chat about safe topics. He never once points out the man sitting two tables over has a toupee that resembles a rat terrier. Dally wouldn’t have missed that. But Dally also wouldn’t have been caught dead in a wine bistro like this. He’d rather have a greasy burger.

‘So, do you live alone in that huge place?’

I blink and refocus. Tom’s a little nervous after asking that question. It takes me a moment to realise he’s attempting to find out where this night is going. Maybe I’m not the only desperate one.

‘No. My brother and I live there. He’s in Houston right now for some training.’

Tom looks a little more hopeful. Some perverse part of me blabs out the rest.

‘But Dallas, my brother’s best friend, is there right now. He’s lived with us for a while.’

‘Oh.’

We return to neutral topics again. It’s not long before we’re done with dinner and heading back to his car. There seems to be no spark between us. Tom is stiff and formal. When I’d talked to him in class, those traits were beneficial, fitting for a guy who plans on working in an East Coast firm. But I’m not interviewing him for a job. I’m trying to find out if I want to have sex with him. And so far the presentation is about as exciting as statistics on staff copier use.

Tom opens the car door for me. I thank him and slip inside, wondering if it’s too soon to try to call it a night. I’m a miserable failure. Dally’s gone and messed with my head.

This should just be sex. Tons of college students hook up randomly all the time. What part of this process am I not understanding?

Tom’s getting in. He buckles his seat belt, but doesn’t start the car yet. Instead, he clears his throat. ‘Some of the other business and econ majors are over at Lou’s celebrating. I think you’d know most of them. Do you

want to go over there for a bit?’

Do I?

Tom smiles at me. I remind myself he and I had seemed to click at that party earlier this year. Maybe this date’s going poorly because we’re both nervous. Maybe I just need to relax and stop stressing about how things are going completely off-plan.

I smile back at him. ‘That sounds great.’

The good news is I do recognise most of the group Tom and I join at Lou’s. I’m not close with any of them, but at least they’re familiar faces. Tom orders us glasses of wine. I sip at mine, grateful when conversation starts flowing more easily and some of my nervousness disappears. Tom’s in the same boat; he keeps glancing at me and giving me funny smiles that may not get me hot, but at least make me feel pleasantly warm. Like a heating pad set on low.

I’m beginning to think this night could still be salvaged when I hear the faux-shocked, ‘Catherine? Oh, my God, is it you?’

It can’t be.

Tags: M.A. Grant Erotic
Source: readsnovelonline.net