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~ Bridget ~
Past
“Thank you soooo much for coming to the event with me,” Amy gushes, leaning into me as we sit in the back of JD’s car. Only this time he and Darren aren’t with us.
“I got a little worried the way you were laying in to Eric Drumm,” Amy continues, “but it all worked out.”
“You guys were gone a while,” I say impishly. I’m relieved. I’d feel bad if I had ruined her chances with JD.
“Yeah, well, he wanted to show me his bedroom again.”
Even in the dark, I can tell she’s blushing.
“So what did you do while I was with JD?” Amy asks. “Harass Eric Drumm some more?”
“I should have,” I reply. “But I just hung out with Darren.”
“Just the two of you?”
“Yeah,” I say.
“Don’t tell me you two got it on?”
My mind flashes back to the foot massage he gave me. Holy crap that was…unusual, amazing, distressing.
“No!” I protest and shift in my seat. I glance out the window as the car pulls onto the Bay Bridge on its way back to campus.
“Did you at least try?”
“I doubt I’m his type. And he’s not exactly mine.”
Could he tell I was about to orgasm? How embarrassing would that be? He’d think I was some kind of freak. Though, why should I care if he did? It sounded like Amy and JD had made enough progress that she wouldn’t need me anymore.
“Why not?” Amy challenged. “He’s super-hot. He’s filthy rich. What else do you need?”
“Personality. Intelligence. A good heart.”
“Well, sure. But he and JD both went to UCLA, so they’re not stupid.”
“Men can have prestigious degrees and still be idiots. Just look at Drumm.”
“I don’t think he’s an idiot. You just don’t like his politics.”
“Okay, maybe he’s not an idiot. He’s worse than an idiot: like his dad, he lacks a solid moral compass. He’s all bluster and no substance.”
Amy sinks into the leather seat. “Ugh.”
“Seriously. I fear for this country if Drumm is elected.”
“How did we end up talking about Drumm? I thought we were talking about Darren.”
Shoot. Drumm was a much more comfortable subject matter for me to dig into. Darren Lee? Not comfortable.
“You agree that’s he’s hot, right?” Amy presses, sitting up.
I squirm, thinking about the moment in the kitchen when he had me trapped against the refrigerator. I actually thought he might kiss me. Or maybe that was wishful thinking. “I guess.”
“It’s a simple yes or no question, with the answer being ‘yes.’”
