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He stopped when he noticed me stretched out on the sofa. “Hey, man, whaddup?”
I cracked an eyelid and grunted.
He picked my shoe up from the floor and threw it at me. “Profound. We going to Sugar Babes later? There’s a new girl on staff; very cute.” He made an exaggerated scoop gesture with his hands to indicate all the cuteness was in the tit region, and I snorted. Ezra might be granola but he had a thing for tits.
Sugar Babes was a restaurant just off campus—a breastaurant, really—that was more bar than food service and staffed by waitresses who dressed in sexy schoolgirl, cheerleader, athlete, or hot professor costuming. The theme was classic campus, with different areas cleverly mimicking different regions of a college campus—the library, a classroom, a sports arena, and so forth.
One of Ezra’s friends was a manager there, which accounted for how he knew of fresh staff.
“Why would I ever turn down Sugar Babes? Gale coming?” A yawn split my face, and I sat up, knowing any attempt at an afternoon nap was over. When Ezra had something on his mind, he was relentless.
“I’m sure he will. Did you see this?”
“See what?”
Ezra plopped himself on the couch beside me and tipped his phone so I could see the screen. An app illuminated a screen with a logo composed of lined notepaper filled with scribbled words superimposed over a heart and masculine-looking glasses.
The words “Dear Casanova” headered the page.
“Uh…no. What is it, an advice column or something?”
“Yeah, for Chandler U. Get a load of this one.Dear Casanova. I had sex with this guy the first time we went out, and now he’s not returning my text messages. I don’t understand what is happening here. Help.”
I blinked. “Oh, shit.”
“Yeah, how to say, ‘he’s probably not that into you,’ or ‘he got the cookie, and he’s good now?’”
I winced. As harsh as it was, men liked the chase. I mean, they liked the sex, too, and wouldn’t turn it down. But at the end of the day, they wanted to feel like they were winning a prize. “Are there more?”
Ezra continued scrolling. “Tons. This promises endless entertainment.” He glanced up at me. “I wonder who Casanova is? Probably someone in the psych department, wouldn’t you think? They would have to have a good understanding of human nature.”
I nodded. “That makes sense, yeah.” I shoved his shoulder lightly. “Definitely wouldn’t be anyone in the math department.”
“Ha, ha, very funny.” Ezra stood up. “Let me take a shower, and we can get moving. You can call Gale and see what his plans are. I’m starving.”
I pulled my own phone out and with a few taps, opened up the Casanova app and returned to the earlier message. I had played dumb, but I had seen the app before.
I had invented the damn thing.
Ten
Gale
Icouldtellbythe heated look in Baron’s eyes that the chicks at Sugar Babes tonight were pressing all his buttons.
The fuck-me-daddy button.
The dear-Jesus-what-a-ditz button.
The maybe-we-can-tape-her-mouth-shut button.
The chances of him actually saying anything, though, were slim to none. Baron might grunt, but he rarely talked, especially to females. And most of these were annoying the shit out of him. If something didn’t change, I was going to be doing damage control before the night was over, sure as God made little green apples.
I snapped my fingers in his face, grabbing his attention. “Hey. Did we ever get a roommate for that fourth room in our quad?” I asked, referencing a notice we’d gotten a week ago letting us know that another roommate was a possibility.
Our final year at Chandler U was well underway, and so far the fourth and final room in our quad dorm remained empty, taunting us with the potential of a stranger coming in and upsetting the perfect balance we’d crafted over the past three years.
We were friends and allies, had seen each other through one-night stands and longer, drama-filled relationships, grueling athletic seasons, and classes we thought would break us.
