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I sip from my drink, the alcohol coursing through my bloodstream, warming me up. “She doesn’t realize he’s only doing this for you?”
“If she does, she hasn’t said anything to me about it.” He shrugs, reaching out to trace his finger in the condensation that’s formed on the almost empty beer mug. He strokes the glass up and down, back and forth, and I imagine him using that exact finger on my skin.
In a particular place.
A shiver steals through me at the thought.
“Cold?” He sends me a look, like he knows what he’s doing.
“Not really.” I bump into him gently. “You’re like a furnace.”
“I run hot.” He swirls his finger in tight little circles.
Good lord. Now I’m the one running hot.
“Knox! Ohmygod, you played the BEST game!”
We both startle at the loud feminine voice, our heads swinging up in tandem to find a tall, buxom blonde standing in front of the table, her voluptuous figure on perfect display in tight jeans and a white cropped top. She’s beautiful.
I shrink a little in my seat, scooting away from Knox as much as I can, which isn’t much at all.
“Hey Daphne.” He nods and smiles, friendly interest sparking in his eyes.
I hate her on sight, which is so unfair. I’m sure she’s a lovely person, but I don’t like how he’s looking at her. And how she’s looking at him. Like they know each other.
As in, knowknoweach other.
“Did you hear me cheering for you?” Daphne asks, batting her long eyelashes at him. If I ever tried that look, I’d fail miserably, but Daphne is adorably sexy.
“Of course,” he retorts, though I’m sure he’s lying through his teeth. “I know you always scream the loudest for me.”
She laughs, the soft tinkle sweet and light. “Oh, you are so naughty, Knox.”
The hidden meaning in his words smacks me right in the chest, making my heart ache. I’m so stupid, thinking he’s into me when he’s been with women like her.
Beautiful and bold and flirtatious. Three words no one would ever use to describe me.
That’s it. I can’t take it anymore.
Jabbing him hard in the ribs with my pointy elbow—Natalie has told me more than once that they should be registered as weapons—I blast him with my request the moment he turns his attention to me.
“I need to use the restroom.” When he blinks, I continue, “Can you get up to let me out? Please?”
“Oh. Sure.” He rises to his full height, tall and broad and painfully gorgeous.
Ugh, I hate him too.
“Thanks,” I mutter as I slide out of the booth, stomping off toward the bathroom. I hear Natalie call my name, but I don’t acknowledge her, too irritated to talk to her.
Too jealous.
And I am not what anyone would call a jealous person either. I’m the cool girlfriend. The one who has no problem with her long-distance boyfriend partying with girls at his campus while I sit alone in my dorm, hoping he won’t do something he’ll end up regretting.
I’m so over being that person. I need to be stronger. Bolder.
Like Daphne. Maybe that could be my new motto. What would Daphne do?
Yeah, that sucks. I don’t even know her.
