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“More,” she whispered. I wasn’t sure she even knew the word had crossed her lips, but it made no nevermind to me. I released her hair and scooped both hands beneath her ass to lift her level with my face, feeling the clench and give of her glutes as I did. I wanted to touch her everywhere. I wanted to give her more.
I kissed her again, swallowing the little sounds she breathed into my mouth, licking the lash of her tongue with my own.
Advance.
Retreat.
Attack.
Surrender.
“Jude?”
The voice at the door made Jude start guiltily in my arms. Reluctant, I lowered her to her feet and stepped back, but not before the waitress standing there saw and sent Jude an amused look. “Dena needs her break,” she said. “You about finished?”
“Yeah… I’ll, uh… I’ll be just a minute.”
The waitress retreated and Jude straightened her clothes, avoiding my eyes. “What was that?”
At her snippy tone, my anger poured back. “It was nothing.”
“Nothing.” She huffed the word out irritably and pushed past me. “I don’t have time for nothing. Or whatever it was.” At the door’s threshold she stopped, and I saw her hands were curled into fists. “Do us both a favor and don’t touch me again, Galen.”
I didn’t have time for any sort of comeback. She was gone, disappeared into the dim hallway beyond the door.
I contented myself with a muttered, “fuck,” and headed down the alley to the parking lot behind the restaurant.
I needed to talk to someone. Opening the door to the Tahoe Baron’s parents had bought me, I climbed in and laid the seat back a few notches, relaxing into the soft leather. I wasn’t a talker, rarely ever spilled about my feelings or even what I was thinking, but this fucking chick had me so twisted up I couldn’t figure out east from west and up from down. I was directionless, navigating solely according to the feelings that swamped me every time I thought about her.
Pulling my phone out, I thumbed open my texts and scrolled. I couldn’t talk to Baron. He liked her, so that would color any advice he would give. Ezra… Ezra was nearly always in one of two modes: mathematical genius intent on solving world hunger with a formula, or Loki-like prankster intent on stirring up trouble. He wouldn’t be much help, either.
Fuck.I had no one else to talk to. My family was Baron’s family, and while they’d taken me in and given me everything I needed, none of us were particularly close. We liked each other, we respected each other, but we didn’t confide in each other.
I closed out my texts and bit my lip, thinking. I’d initially thought it was the stupidest idea ever, but there was a new relationship app that was huge on campus. It had just come out in the last month, and had become an instant hit. People wrote into The Casanova Helpline all the time, seeking advice on things from break-ups to cheating to STDs. I’d caught myself reading through the messages and responses many a time, intrigued by the sometimes snarky (dude, she’s not worth it. Get a cat.), sometimes wise (tough love, but she’s out of your lane. Move on.)solutions Casanova offered.
I opened the app.
Hovered my finger over the message screen.
Started typing.
Casanova:
Advice requested. What do you do when you can’t decide whether you really like someone, or really despise them?What if you suspect you might like them, but your friend likes them, too?
And if you really like them, how do you say you’re sorry for being a complete asshole?
Thanks.
I signed my message with “Asshole,” and then pulled out of the restaurant’s parking lot, leaving my nemesis, if not my uncertainty, behind.
Chapter 16: Casanova
Dear Asshole,
Only you can decide whether or not you like this person. If you’re conflicted though, I would ask yourself why you think you dislike them. Have they done something that you didn’t like, maybe something that made you question their character? If the answer is no, then chances are you have created some abstract reason for dislike that has nothing to do with the actual person, and you need to figure that shit out.
If you think a friend likes this same someone, I recommend you do the logical thing (DOH) and TALK to your friend. There’s no point in guessing.
