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Across the bar, I spot one of the bookends and my mind immediately takes me back to Dallas. “I did s-something last night…” I start again, louder, with a little more courage this time.
Blake stares at me. Then she shouts, “Oh my God! You––”
“No––” I sharply deny before that train leaves the station. “Not yet.”
“Your first BJ?” Zoe brings the bottle of Anders-Burns beer bottle to her lips and sips. “You better have kept your eyes shut like I taught you.”
“That was our f-first date.” And my last with Andy. He’s a perfectly nice guy that I have absolutely no physical chemistry with. Otherwise he’d be the perfect boyfriend. Why does love have to be so complicated?
“Don’t judge”––Zoe points a well-manicured light-blue nail at me––“you judgy judger.”
“I askedDallastodothedeed.”
Three sets of eyes blink back at me. Two brown. One hazel. Confusion filling all of them. A few more seconds pass in silence. Meanwhile, I stuff another entire handful of chips in my mouth and wash it down with the dregs of Zoe’s margarita.
Blake finally speaks up. “Come again?”
After a fit of coughing, I push the empty margarita glass across the table at Zoe. “I asked Dallas to have s-sex with me.”
Silence. My goodness, I’ve rendered them speechless for once.
“Oh my gawd,” Zoe drawls. “You like him.”
“A-as a person. He’s been a good friend.” Small lie. Tiny prevarication.
I glance over at Alice for moral support and she shakes her head, lips pressed together to tamp down a grin. In other words, I’m on my own.
“C’mon. Don’t play us like that,” Blake says, chuckling.
“Are you on drugs?” Zoe again. “I forbid it.”
“Why d-do you h-hate him?”
Inquiring minds want to know. And judging by Alice’s expression, she was thinking the same.
Zoe’s amusement evaporates. She looks away briefly and swallows. “I’ve known guys like him all my life. They think they’re entitled to run over everyone and anyone for kicks…I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“He’s not like that, Z,” Blake argues. “I’ve told you this a million times.”
“He’s not,” I add. “He’s actually s-smart and sweet and––”
“Smart? Did you say smart?” Zoe’s face is the very picture of shocked indignation.
“He’s v-very smart.”
“Now I know you’re high.”
“Well you can r-rest easy b-because he turned me down.” My stomach clenches. It’s actually physically painful to admit.
“That son of a bitch. I’ll kill him.”
Alice bursts into laughter, I shake my head, and Blake rolls her eyes.
“But you j-just said I was high for asking him.”
“That was before he turned you down. Who the hell does he think he is?”
Zoe suddenly stiffens, her attention averts to someone or something over my shoulder. “Oh good. I don’t even have to hunt him down.”
My head whips around and there he is, standing in the entrance looking more gorgeous and sexy than any one person has the right to. What’s even worse––he doesn’t even have to try.
It looks like he ran here. His white t-shirt has a sweat stain in the middle, his tattoo bleeding through, and he’s wearing shorts and sneakers. His hair is wild and curlier at the ends from the physical exertion. Anybody else would look wrecked. Dallas manages to look even more attractive.
Those mesmerizing blue eyes scan the crowd, and once he spots our table, he trots right over, his expression so determined I don’t know if I should stand my ground, or cut and run.
“Girls,” he announces.
“Hi Dallas,” both Blake and Alice answer back. Zoe, on the other hand––nothing outside of a lot of glamorous glowering. When it goes on for far too long, I kick her under the table.
“Van Zant, what a surprise. You better have come with a written apology.”
He shoots her a confused look, shakes it off, and resumes his pointed stare at me.
“Can I talk to you?”
“I’m w-with the g-girls.”
He blows out a frustrated breath. “I see that. Can I talk to you anyway?”
He won’t stop until I acquiesce. Dallas is a closet go-getter for lack of a better term. The lazy no-effs-given attitude he puts on for the world to see is a sham, an act to sell the notion that he doesn’t care about anything when in fact he cares very much.
“Fine.”
He smiles, squares his shoulders, takes a satisfied breath. “Good.”
“F-Five minutes.”
“That’s all I need.”
Meanwhile, the girls watch us closely, their eyeballs ping-ponging between us. They haven’t had the benefit of seeing us together so this is all new to them.
I slide off the stool and march to the front door. No way will I humiliate myself in front of the rest of the Malibu U student body. Some of the bookends are here and watching him/us closely.
Once I get outside, in the shadow of the parking lot, I stop and turn. “Yes?”
“You ran out before I could explain.”
“You k-know I don’t run.”
“Fine. You speed walked,” he says all huffy. “What I was going to say…” His gaze darts to my lips and away, back to my lips and away, causing heat to infuse my cheeks.
