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Chase, talk? About us?
“Not here. Not now.” I headed back to the table with my head held high.
I returned to Eric and plonked down with the force of frustration. “Look, I’m sorry about that.”
A smarmy smile came and went. “A past hookup?”
I hated the way that sounded and retaliated with a sharp, “No.”
“He’s not over you. I can see that. And I don’t blame him. You’re seriously hot.”
I gulped down my martini. This wasn’t the time for moderation. Just as I opened my mouth to comment, my phone pinged.
“Sorry, I’m waiting for an important call. My mother’s not well.”
It was a white lie. And maybe my mother wasn’t well. After all, she was hooking up with my ex.
That was another shit show that needed addressing. She hadn’t been home after I’d plucked up the courage to talk to her. That had come as a relief, though. I wasn’t sure whether to berate or counsel her, which was what I normally did over her new men.
My mom would often go in feet first while insisting her heart would only invest for a moment. Most of the time, she came out on top and walked away totally unbruised, ready for her next conquest. But there’d been a few wreckages along the way.
Liam had sent me a message. This is your get-out-of-jail card. Use it wisely.
I nearly laughed, but instead, I pulled a stern face by activating my acting muscles. At least those drama classes at college were being put to good use escaping shitty Tinder dates.
“I’m sorry. I have to go. My mom needs me. I’m the only one…”
His brow shifted, and before he could comment, I raced off.
Just as I stepped onto the pavement, a hand touched my arm. I turned, and Eric stood so close, I could smell his breath—a nauseating cocktail of cigarettes, alcohol, and garlic.
“Hey, can we do this again?” he asked.
“Maybe. I mean…” I searched for the right words. “Look, my mom’s unwell. That’s true. But you don’t look anything like your photo. I normally go for guys in my age group.”
His expression soured. “You’re one of those time-wasting bitches.”
“Well… no.” My shoulders tensed, and bile rose to my throat. “That’s the nature of Tinder.”
He grabbed me by the waist and pushed himself against me. “I’ve met princesses like you before. They love it a bit rough. I think you’re playing hard to get. A cock-tease.”
I struggled in his arms. “Leave me alone.”
Clutching me, he pushed me against the wall, then a voice said, “You heard her. Fuck off.”
Eric released me, and before I could say anything, Chase had punched him in the face.
Holding his nose, Eric scrambled to his feet. “You can have her. She’s nothing but a stuck-up princess.”
People passing by stopped to watch as Eric straightened himself out and gave them the middle finger. One stranger who’d taken a photo came up to me and asked if I was pressing charges.
I shook my head while wiping my brow, as I watched Eric skulk away.
Turning to Chase, I straightened my blouse and smiled weakly. “Thanks.”
He opened his palms. “What’s happening, Ivy? Why are you on Tinder?”
Tears filled my eyes. After that creep and all the other crap going on in my life, I needed a good cry. Badly. I choked back tears. “I wanted to get back at you.”
