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“An ice farmer?” I tried not to smile at her odd choice of words, but then they sank in and began rattling around in my brain. “Wait—you think that I was just some kind of game? Like he didn’t mean anything he said to me?”
“No, no, no,” she said quickly before throwing up her hands. “I just meant that Nick knows what he’s doing. He’s a great salesman. And if he didn’t want you to think he was an asshole, then you wouldn’t think it. Shit, does that make sense?” she mumbled under her breath as her phone beeped.
“Let me see it.”
I took the phone from her and opened up the newest text message. A picture appeared that showed Nick and Carla facing each other in a restaurant booth, his arm draped lazily around her shoulders. The slight smile that played on Nick’s lips made my stomach roll.
They looked comfortable together. Carla’s long dark hair accented her naturally bronzed skin. She was exotic and breathtaking to look at. I could never compete with a girl who looked like a Hawaiian Tropic model.
I handed the phone back to Rachel. “She’s really pretty.”
“Who cares how pretty she is? She’s a puta,” my roommate spat back.
Calling someone a bitch was satisfying, but it sounded even better calling them one in Spanish.
“You know her?”
Rachel propped her feet on the coffee table, narrowly missing my salad as she crossed her ankles. “I had a couple of classes with her last year. She walks around like she’s some sort of princess because her dad’s loaded and owns all those TV stations. I remember she was late to this one class almost every day. The professor stopped mid-lecture once to tell her that it was in poor taste to be habitually tardy, and that she should consider being more considerate to her classmates. That girl freaking said that she and her classmates paid his salary by attending school here, so she would arrive and leave whenever she saw fit. And then she stood up and walked out.”
My jaw hung open as I formulated a response that contained actual words instead of amazed grunt-like sounds. “Wow,” was all I seemed to muster.
“Right? And even if what she said was true in any way, which I don’t think it is, it was the way she said it. Her tone of voice.” Rachel crinkled her nose in disgust as she relived the memory. “Like Professor Santero was completely beneath her, and she was appalled he would even think to address her at all.”
And this was the type of person Nick liked? “I can’t believe Nick is out with someone with that.”
“Nick’s dated all kinds of girls, Jess. And they’re not always nice.”
“I know that,” I lied. Actually, I didn’t know that. “I guess I just thought he was different. He seemed different with me.”
“I’m sorry. In all honesty, I thought he was different with you too. I mean, he spent the night here last night, and you guys held hands today at school.”
My head snapped around in her direction. “How do you even know about the hand-holding thing?”
“Duh. I hear everything, Jess. You know this. And not that him holding hands is odd, but I just thought it meant you guys were dating now and not dating other people.”
I groaned. “I thought that too, that we were starting something, and now we’re over before we even really began.”
Her phone beeped again, and she glared at it. “Enough, people, jeez! I already know.” She turned to me. “You’d think I ran an online gossip site or something.”
“Maybe you should. Just don’t start with this story. Please.”
A sharp knock at the door pulled us from our conversation.
“You expecting anyone?” Rachel asked.
As she moved to get up, I stopped her.
“No. You?”
“No.”
“I got it.”
When I opened the door, Nick took a step toward me before I could even react. Without a word, he cupped the back of my head with his hand as he planted a kiss on my lips like he owned them . . . like they belonged to him.
Quickly, I pulled away, wiping my lips with the back of my hand. “Don’t touch me!” I said, wondering how he was here when I could have sworn he was just at a restaurant.
Nick’s brow furrowed. “Jess? What’s wrong?”
