B
Do I seem like someone who would play games?
Kass
You absolutely do.
No offense.
B
None taken.
"What the hell’sgot you smiling so much?"
I look over at Fia and just now realize that she paused the movie. "Nothing. Just fucking with him."
Fia shakes her head at me. "Quit torturing the poor guy."
"He's fine. He's dishing it right back."
"Good boy."
Of course she’d say that. "That's what I told him!"
Chapter Seven
B
Somehow, even after telling him several times that I don't do this, Kass convinced me to go on a date with him. Well, he's calling it a date. I'm not. I'm just playing along like a normal person until I can get him alone and get in his pants, because let's be honest, that's what he really wants anyway.
I rarely break my “no dates” rule, especially with men, but I’m so set on getting this man in my pants that I caved. I reminded myself that some people need to get to know someone a little better before bumping their genitals together. Maybe he’s one of them. Either way, regardless of what he has planned for today, it’s ending with me in his pants, if I have anything to say about it.
I walk through the doors and shake off the chill from the crisp air outside. A week in California was enough to make me not want to come back to this freezing cold state. But alas, Minnesota has my heart and will always somehow pull me back here from the beautiful places I travel to for work.
I look around and spot him on his phone in a corner. Iwalk over, and he must hear the clumping sound of my Doc Martins as I approach because he looks up with a smile on his face, as if he already knows who's approaching him without even looking.
"I'm starting to think you being late is a chronic condition."
I roll my eyes at Kass, annoyed that he's already calling me on my bullshit when we barely know each other. "I'm less than ten minutes late. That doesn't even count. Plus, it's not like they have a strict reservation time here."
I'm not sure why he chose the Minneapolis Institute of Art. I pictured a drink at a bar, then back to his place sort of a date. But here we are.
There is one way I know to spice up thisnon-date. Let's just hope he's game.
"You ready to go in?" He puts his hand on my back as if to usher me in.
If I didn't enjoy the contact so much, I'd swat his hand away. "Wait. I've got something for you."
With one hand on the door, he looks down at me, one eyebrow cocked up higher than the other.
I pull my hand out of my purse, holding a small plastic bag, covered in a colorful design. "You want one?" I hold it up so he can read the label.
"You want to get high before we go in?"
"Technically, I'm already high. I took one before I came. But I brought some with me in case you want to join me. They're pretty fast-acting."
He thinks about it for a second, which makes me nervous. I was hoping for an enthusiastic, immediate yes.
