Chapter eight
Ruth
Everett
have dinner with me tonight
ROO
excuse you?
Ev, you’re in Texas. I am not. There are like a billion miles between us right now.
Everett
I know.
Do you trust me baby girl?
ROO
I trust you
so help me god
don’t make me regret thisEverett
Everett
using the full name I see
can’t pretend it doesn’t do something for me
ROO
‘do something’ like make you realise you’re ridiculous?
Everett
more like unlock a sexy schoolteacher kink tbh
ROO
jesus christ
I have absolutely no idea what Everett meant when he saidhave dinner with me, but for better or worse, I trust him. I’ve met the man in person for a grand total of twenty-five minutes, but in the last week or so, we’ve spent countless hours texting and talking on the phone, and I haven’t felt this kind of ease with a new friend since Amie, Katy, and I met Paloma. When we FaceTime, I can’t take my eyes off him. There’s just something about him, some kind of magnetic force pulling me to him, whether I want to be or not.
He was thrilled when I sent him my flight details. He sent me a selfie of his grinning face, a light sheen of sweat coating his tan skin as he stood shirtless in the high midday sun. He’s been texting me with all kinds of plans and ideas for the last twenty-four hours since I booked the ticket.
I study his bright, boyish smile in his contact picture.
I don’t think I mind being pulled into his orbit.
He told me to be ready with my food at seven—London time—and to dress nice. I think I’ve understood the assignment. I’m in a pair of black suede leggings and a loose, camel-coloured blouse with a pussy-bow collar. I’m just applying a dusky red lip gloss when my phone buzzes at precisely seven o’ clock.
I answer the FaceTime call to a grinning Everett, dressed in a charcoal button-down shirt with the top few buttons open and sleeves rolled to his elbows. His muscled forearms ripple as he moves around his kitchen, serving a steaming heap of pasta into a bowl and sprinkling enormous handfuls of parmesan on top.
“Hey, Ruth,” he says with a happy sigh. “God, it’s good to see your face again. You look really pretty.”
