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Chapter Eleven
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“Wait, you did what?” Whitney laughs into the phone, clearly finding humor in my current predicament.
“It’s not funny, Whit. I made a complete fool of myself,” I tell her, making my way out of Luna’s Ice Cream shop on Main Street–a large mint chocolate chip milkshake in my hand. Growing up it had been my go to treat when I was feeling sorry for myself, so when I passed Luna’s I couldn’t stop myself from turning around and going inside.
“I’m sorry, Lake, but it is funny. Very funny actually.”
“Well I’m glad you think so,” I grind out, looking both ways before quickly crossing the street to where my car is parked.
“Oh come on. You have to see the humor in this.” She chuckles. “If it were me and the roles were reversed, you’d be having a nice long laugh at my expense right about now.”
“I would not,” I object. “Okay, so maybe you’re right. But that doesn’t make things any better for me right now. What the hell am I going to do? I’m pretty certain I will never be able to face him again.”
“Don’t be so dramatic. So you got drunk and suggested you become fuck buddies. Would that really be such a bad thing?”
I consider that for a moment knowing it wouldn’t be a bad thing at all.
“You’re completely ignoring the fact that I practically vomited on his feet. He probably doesn’t want to be anywhere near me.”
“Pretty sure most guys would not be deterred by a little upchuck.” The smile in her voice is clear.
“So then what do you suggest I do?” I ask, unlocking my car door before sliding into the driver’s seat.
“Drive your ass back home, walk right up to him, and tell him you meant what you said last night.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
“That’s easy for you to say. What if he laughs in my face?” I take a long gulp of my milkshake before laying my head back against the headrest.
“He won’t.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I can’t imagine there’s a man on this earth that would laugh at the thought of getting in your pants. You’re hot, Lake. Hotter than hot. Our Mark Knox lookalike will be falling over himself to accept your offer and that’s a guarantee.”
“I think you should have your eyes checked.” I groan.
“Oh I can see just fine, honey. And so can you. You know you’re smokin’ and you know if you want Thad you can have him. You knew that well before last night.”
“That’s not true.”
“Really?” she questions and I swear I can see her as if she’s standing right in front of me. Hand on her hip, disbelieving look on her pretty face.
“Really,” I insist. “He’s done a pretty good job of making me feel like he’s not interested.”
“And yet he admitted last night that he wanted you.”
“And then refused to fuck me,” I remind her. “He probably just felt awkward and said what he thought I wanted to hear.”
“Or he meant what he said and didn’t want to take advantage of you.”
“You haven’t met him, Whit. He doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who would decline the offer to sleep with someone because she’s had a little too much to drink.”
“A little too much? Based on how sick you got, I’d say you had more than alittletoo much.” She laughs.
