find irresistible for whatever reason. When the power of the grin brings only a raised barbell in her brow instead of the usual smitten response, I add, “I want to do something with you. No fake dates. No ex-husbands. No fan girls interrupting us. Just us.”
She lets out a sigh. “Why?”
Funny how my grin didn’t work but honesty did.
“Why?” I shove my hands into my jeans pockets. “I think it’s obvious I’m extremely attracted to you.”
“I’ve heard your attraction to the opposite sex is boundless. Besides, since when do you date?”
Fuck. I don’t want to imagine what she’s heard about me or if she’s just making assumptions, but I’m not even going there. I rub my jaw and decide to be straightforward for once. “I usually don’t.” Her expression remains confused. “But maybe you’re the exception,” I say, startled by my own admission.
She blinks, then her head shakes slightly. “Justin…”
I lean down until our eyes are inches apart. “Come on, Allie. Go out with me. Saturday. I’m practically begging here.”
Her hand tightens around the coffee cup between us. She holds it like a shield. “I work Saturday.”
“Until…”
“Ten.”
I step back. “Then I’ll pick you up at the shop.”
Her chin drops. “I didn’t say I’d go.”
“You were going to.”
She takes a long sip of coffee as those guarded eyes study me. “I can’t stay out late.”
To say I’m relieved she has agreed to go would be an understatement. “I’ll have you home before the Beemer turns back into a pumpkin.”
She shakes her head. “You’ll have to take me back to my car, so how about I meet you?”
Her reluctance sets me on edge again, but instead of acting pissy, I blurt, “You’re
She sighs. “All right, you can pick me up.”
I rock back and forth in my Chucks. “Since I screwed that up,” I gesture to the coffee shop with my chin, “let me walk you to your car?”
“Um…sure,” she says slowly.
Her hesitance is the snap of a whip to my confidence, and it leaves a welt and a sharp sting.
As we walk together toward the parking lot, I consider whether her reluctance has to do with Trevor—or my reputation. I’m not sure which would be worse. Either I’m a prick or a jealous prick. And either I have to beat Trevor out or convince her my rep doesn’t matter.
This is going to have to be one hell of a date. My brain flips through some ideas as we walk.
“So tell me,” I say as we pass the circular fountain in the middle of campus. “You like wine?”
“It’s okay.”
“Red or white?”
“Ah…either.”
“Sweet or dry.”
“Sweet or dry what?”
“Wine.”
“Oh.” She glances at me. “Guess I should be honest. I don’t know crap about wine. Rarely drink it.”
I could bring up sparkling gummy worms, but except for our hot kiss, between her tears and my temper that night is best forgotten. “All right. How about chocolate? Milk or dark?”
“Chocolate?”
“You know the rich, smooth candy that sometimes comes in a bar.”
Allie’s lips curve into a soft smile. “Both.”
A couple of girls walking toward us stare, then stop and whisper like schoolgirls. As we get closer, I realize I’ve slept with the taller one. Though I don’t recall her name, I remember her long legs.
“Hey, Justin,” she says. I nod. She gives Allie the once-over. “I’m still waiting for that call.”
Fuck. Of course, this shit would come up now. I keep walking. “Sorry. Must have lost your number.” Once we’re past the girls and on the asphalt of the parking lot, Allie gives me a pointed look. Hands still in my pockets, I roll out a stiff shrug. “I can’t help who gives me their number.”
“Ah, girls throw their numbers at you?”
I shrug again. “Comes with being in a band.”
“Sounds high schoolish.”
Bitch slap to the ego. My confidence stinging from the snap of her whip. I let out a deep breath. Stay calm. “Yeah, sometimes it feels that way.”
Allie stops behind a black midsize sedan. I’d expect something flashier, what with her owning a business, and a tattoo shop at that. She turns to me. “Well, I guess I’ll see you Saturday.”
I pluck my glasses from my shirt collar. “Pick you up out front?”
“No. There’s a parking lot behind the shop.”
“All right. Dress warm.”
“Warm? What are we doing?”
I give her a slow smirk. “You’ll find out Saturday,” I say, turning back toward the dorms. Though I want to, I don’t look back. A man has to have some pride. Pulling out my phone, I check the time. My walk turns faster. Jade and Bridget, a cute pair of freshman girls, are probably already outside my dorm room, anxiously waiting for my dirty clothes. I haven’t done my own laundry in over two years—a bit of flirting and a few free tickets gets a girl every time. I start jogging. I’m not about to start doing laundry.
Todd waits while I set the lock and timer. We walk together to the parking lot. As usual, he asks me about Holly, who I just spent two hours tattooing because she couldn’t wait another Saturday to reschedule. He always asks me about Holly after she comes in. He knows she’s very taken, but he still asks. I’m not sure if it’s the boobs or the tattoos. Most likely both. I rarely take time out to chat with him about anything, much less my roommate. When it comes to the shop, I’m all work and no play.
“You know, Todd, she’s never even home,” I say. “She’s always at Jake’s. They pretty much live together.” I don’t mention that she refuses to officially move in with him until there’s a rock on her finger. Of course, Holly would not shut up about Justin for the entire time I was inking her new palm tree—she wants Jake to propose somewhere tropical. I can’t imagine what she would have been like if I’d told her I was going out with Justin after work tonight.
Todd pulls his beanie low over his forehead and shrugs. “She’s out of my league anyway.”
Smacking his arm, I say, “Holly’s not like that. She probably would have gone out with you.” I knock his shoulder with mine. “If you would have asked her
He opens his mouth to say something, but the crunch of gravel interrupts as Justin’s Beemer comes into view. Todd frowns at the car. “Al, as a guy, I like him, but you’d better watch yourself.”
Though I have my own reservations about Justin—some have to do with his one-night-stand merry-go- round—I’m refusing to overthink it. I don’t want to become a jealous shrew ever again. I used to give girls around Trevor dirty looks. If he touched the door handle, I asked him where he was going. I called his phone constantly. None of it helped our relationship—actually, probably hurt it. And I became a crueler person with every look, question, and call. Even though this is only a date, I’m not going down that road ever again.
“Slow down,” I say. “He’s not proposing or anything. We’re just going out on a date, having fun.”
Todd twists the gauge in his ear. “Fun, huh? You’re not that kind of girl.” He nods toward the Beemer. “But he’s that kind of guy.”
I let out a huff. “I can date a guy and have fun.”
