At the thought of Matt, I am reminded that I left Nikki sitting all alone, and I have no idea how long I’ve been in the restroom for. “Fuck,” I groan.
I’ve treated everyone poorly tonight. At the very least, I’m leaving Dave a huge tip.
I adjust myself before leaving the bathroom and making my way back to Nikki, surprised she’s still here since I’ve clearly been the worst date ever. I sit down beside her, feeling defeated. I can’t believe I just said all that to Summer. I can’t believe Ididall that to Summer.
I glance over and see her hugging Sam and another guy goodbye, with Matt standing behind her, holding what I assume is her jacket.
I feel sick.
She’s actually leaving with him. I thought it was just an empty threat.
She’s going to go home with him after I just made her climax in the bar’s bathroom.
Nikki asks if I’m feeling okay, and I assure her that I am, though my gaze never leaves Summer as I watch her walk out the door, held open by Matt. I clench my hands into fists and grit my teeth.
That should be me. I should be ushering Summer out of here. I should be the one eager to get her back to my place so that we could finish what we started. I find myself cursing the day I decided to be a professor. I curse accepting a job at this university. I curse Summer for needing my class to graduate. And I curse my blatant lack of self-control.
Knowing that I’d have to face both Summer and Matt in class on Monday makes the alcohol in my gut roil with disgust. Will he start sitting next to her every day? Will they waltz into class holding hands? Kiss each other while working on their midterm presentation? Will he leave hickeys along her neck that I’ll be forced to look at whenever she’s around?
Nikki pulls my attention back to her. “Sorry,” I say, shaking my head, trying to remove the image of Summer leaving with Matt from my mind. “What was that?”
“I was asking if you wanted to get out of here?” She lets her fingers drift lightly over my arm. “We can go back to my place?”
I look at Nikki.Reallylook at her. She’s beautiful, there’s no denying that, and I’m left feeling unsatisfied from the experience in the bathroom. But I’m already guilt-ridden over everything with Summer, how I’d treated her after I had kissed her in theelevator. How I followed her into the bathroom and then told her what a big mistake it was. She must think I’m a huge asshole, and rightly so.
If I took Nikki up on her offer, it wouldn’t be her I was thinking of, and that’s not fair to her.
“I think I’m going to just head home for the night,” I say weakly, knowing how this all must make her feel. “I’m just exhausted from a rough week at work.”
She nods and gives me a sweet smile. “That’s okay, I had a good time tonight. Maybe some other time.”
I walk Nikki out the door and can’t help but look in the direction of Summer’s apartment, wondering if she took Matt there.
God, I’m so fucked.
11
SUMMER
I unlock my doorand walk into my empty apartment. I shoot off a quick text thanking Matt for the ride home before flopping down on my bed, greeted immediately by Milo. She rubs her head against my arm, and I smile before scratching behind her ears.
I know it was a low blow to let Asher think I went home with Matt. I was completely aware of how that would look, and to be honest, I was hoping it would hurt his feelings. The man has given me whiplash over our last few interactions. The audacity he has to follow me into a bathroom, make me climax while keeping all of my clothes on, and then turn around and immediately imply he regrets the entire thing is just astounding.
So was it petty to throw another guy in his face after everything that had just happened? Absolutely. But was it petty of him to bring a date to the bar he knows I practically live at? Abso-fucking-lutely. I’d call us even now. And it wouldn’tsurprise me if he took that girl back to his place so that he could finish what we’d started with someone more ‘appropriate’.
I kick off my boots, notice a missed call from Mom, and listen to a three-minute voicemail, the gist of which is that she wants to make plans for when I come home for Thanksgiving. I shoot her a quick text, knowing she’s already asleep, she would’ve turned the porch light off promptly at nine and refused to give out candy even a minute after. I tell her that I’ll drive down after my class on Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving, and that I’ll head back Saturday afternoon. I know she’ll be upset that I’m only there for a few nights, but that’s all I’ll be able to handle.
I plug my phone in and start trying to guess which eligible man she’ll invite to dinner while I’m home. It’s like she thinks I only havea year left to have kids, and if I don’t find a mate ASAP, she’ll never be agrandmother.
Deciding that I have zero interest in entertaining any suitors over the break, I send her another text, begging her for dinner to be just the two of us, with no guests invited. She texts back a thumbs-up emoji, so she’s not thrilled about the request, but hopefully she’ll honor it.
I feed Milo, then head to the bathroom to wash the remaining makeup and hairspray off before bed. I run my fingers through my tangled hair after flipping on the light.
As I’m stripping to shower, I notice a dark spot marring the skin between my neck and shoulder.
It’s a fucking hickey.
“You’re fucking kidding me,” I hiss out, prodding the bruised skin. “That bastard.”
