AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Before they’re even halfway to the door, I hear Elodie say to him, “What a bitch.”
Jericho turns to stare at me, mouth open in offense.
I don’t know what to say. Where to even begin.
“Did she just…?”
I keep quiet.
“Unbelievable.”
“I mean…”
“What?” Jericho asks, dark amber eyes flashing.
I should tread carefully. The whole bitch thing was uncalled for, and I’m not about to side with Jericho’s newly declared enemy. But I need to understand what the hell just happened. “You obviously didn’t like them.”
“She was fine, but he was—I don’t even know what to say about him.”
“He really got under your skin, huh?”
“Did you know he doesn’t have a job?”
“I didn’t realize that was a dealbreaker for you.”
“It’s not just that. He was oozing entitlement.” To demonstrate, she picks up the money he dropped and waves it around with contempt. Dinner probably comes to one-fifty, if that. We only had two bottles of house wine.
“The Alfredo thing pushed me over the edge,” she says.
I don’t want to tell her that him wearing that black turtleneck almost had me groping him in the downstairs bathroom. That’s how close he pushed me to the edge tonight. Turtlenecks aren’t supposed to be sexy. But a few weeks ago, I didn’t think men were sexy, either, and here we are, with me wishing I was the one getting into the car with him.
Because what fucking plans uptown? “Are you okay?” I ask her.
“I’m… I don’t know, Drew. What was with that? Why did you invite those people? Why couldn’t we just have had dinner together like I thought we planned?”
“I’m sorry. It sounded like you were looking forward to it when we talked about it this morning.”
“What was I supposed to say? You never invite people to do anything. I picture you up there in that fancy lobby just folding deeper and deeper into yourself, so I was… I don’t know what I was. Now I just feel like I’ve been punked.”
“Sorry,” I say again, quieter this time.
“Do you not want to hang out with me?”
“It’s not that…”
“Then what?”
I take a deep breath and lean back in my chair. Folding my hands in my lap, I stare down at them. “I’m really struggling, Jer.”
“With?”
“Everything,” I sigh.
She turns in her seat, crossing her legs toward me. I remember the first time I saw those legs, when she slid that black sequined romper off. I’d been mesmerized. Transfixed. Tonight, they’re just legs. I have no feelings about them at all.
“Talk to me, Drew. I know you’re not happy. I can see you’re struggling. What can I do?”
“There’s nothing you can do,” I say.
