“Oh my god,” she squeals. “Does Camden Snow want you to have his babies? Did he breed you last night?”
I groan and pull the blanket over my head again. “No.”
Sutton giggles. “You know what? I want to make a bet.”
“No bets.”
“Yes bets!” She squeals, and the blanket is ripped away again. “I bet that even when you do everything you say is wrong, you won’t end up dumped.”
“We’ll see,” I say, pulling out my phone.
Yeah, I snuck out of Camden’s place. But the man has my number. He made sure of it. So if he wants to reach me, he knows how to find me.
THIRTEEN
SAVANNAH
Calliope’s Column
It’s Not Him, It’s You (Kind Of)
Rule Number 1: Don’t sleep with him on the first date. Or ask him if he wants kids during foreplay.
With a groan,I finish formatting the title and subtitle of my first article. Then I attach it to an email and send it over to copy for proofing. It’s been six days, and I haven’t heard a peep from Camden Snow.
I guess I did what I set out to do. Proved that no matter how strong a connection, some actions are just deal-breakers. And it only took a single date to do it.
Even after writing out precisely what I did wrong, I had my doubts. Because with him, it didn’t feel like there was a single thing I could do wrong. But here I am. I finally understand how Sutton can feel blindsided. Is this the type of connection she has with every man she falls for? It can’t be. Can it?
Then again, who am I to judge? I thought we had a real connection.Something unique. And he didn’t even call me after. Normally Sutton makes it at least a week or two with her guys before she scares them off.
Could his lack of contact have something to do with me sneaking out? Maybe. I suppose he might be angry about it. But he has far too much confidence to give up because of it. Plenty of men sneak out after one-night stands, so why can’t women? And he has my number. So if he wanted to call, he would. It’s dating 101. The feminine manifesto.
I refuse to be a pathetic cliché and reach out, asking why he didn’t call. I’m not the exception, I’m the rule. We all are.
I fling myself back in my chair, making it roll back and hit the wall with a thud.
“What did the wall ever do to you?” Josie teases as she peeks over from her cubicle. Today she’s wearing a chic black and white outfit. I’d look like a cow in the loose, flowy fabric, but she pulls it off well.
“Article’s done,” I say, making my tone light.
Josie arches a brow. “Really? So he seriously didn’t call?”
My heart pangs, but I ignore it. “Nope.”
“Huh.” With a small frown, she shrugs. “Well, onto the next.”
I sigh and sit up in my chair. “What are you talking about?”
“Your next date. Who’s it going to be?”
Oh shit. I’ve been too busy licking my wounds—which is absolutely absurd—to even think about it.
It was one night.
I squeeze my hands into fists, and as I relax them again, I release all the negative energy pent up inside me.
She’s right. It’s time to move on.
