Everyone around me is talking when Em elbows me on the side. Turning, I find her big blue eyes semi-covered by the hair that’s falling out of her messy bun. She smiles sweetly, the one she rarely shows to anyone outside this circle, for who knows what fucking reason, and grabs my hand. Em doesn’t say anything. She just dips her chin and holds on tight before leaning her head on my shoulder.
After a couple more minutes, Em and Jake start a conversation, and Kami grabs my other hand. “Take notes from what happened between me and Cam. Don’t wait too long. Life’s too damn short.”
An hour later,the guys are gone, leaving me in the bedroom, playing my guitar, and waiting for Stevie to leave for her date. I didn’t think about how long she would take, and I have to piss. The scent of the lavender bouquet on my desk catches my attention, and I look at the clock. It’s already six forty. It’s been over an hour. Am I that much of a coward that I can’t even go to the bathroom in case I might run into her?
Taking a deep breath and putting my guitar down, I step outside and find my roommate’s door closed with the light still peering from underneath it. I rush and shut the door to the bathroom.
It’s official: I’m a pussy.
Even knowing that I’m going to tell Stevie about the way I feel soon, I don’t want to see what she’s going to wear for Brad. Emma was right to hit me with that pillow, Iwasstupid. I should’ve interrupted their moment in front of the theater, fuck the consequences. Running a hand through my hair, I look at myself in the mirror.
“Idiot,” I whisper before leaving, and stop again when I see Stevie’s door open.
She’s sitting on the edge of her bed putting on a pair of short, high-heeled boots. It takes me a moment and about four blinks to believe what I’m seeing.
She’s wearing a fucking skirt.
That probably doesn’t seem like a big deal to some people, but Stevie hasn’t ever worn a skirt in the two months that we’ve been living together. She told me she rarely wears them unless it is a special occasion. Apparently, Brad is a special occasion. I clench my jaw and tilt my head to try to get a good look at theentire outfit from here. It might be denim. Maybe a little tight vest and white shirt underneath and…what the fuck am I doing?
She finishes zipping her second boot and looks up. Our eyes meet, and neither of us says a word. Stevie stands and walks toward the door. I automatically think she’s going to slam it shut. Instead, she turns the light off and picks up her purse from her desk.
“Hey.” She gives me a half smile.
“Hi.” I try to grin back, but I’m sure I look fucking constipated.
My roommate steps farther into the light, and I’m now able to see all of her. I suck in a short, barely audible breath. Her face has more makeup than it ever has, but it only enhances everything that’s already beautiful about her. It reminds me of the night after the mall when we went for a drive and then made out…
Shaking my head, I look at her from head to toe. A tight vest with a long-sleeved white shirt underneath, black stockings, and a tight short denim skirt.Fuck.That was Kamila’s doing.
Her clothes mark every curve that I saw and felt last week, and it takes all my self-control to demand that she not go on this date.
“What do you think?” she asks in a soft voice. “Not bad for a first date, huh?” The second part comes out a little more confident, and I force a smile.
“You look beautiful, Bambi. As always,” I say honestly. Her grin from before disappears, and we remain rooted to our spots, staring at each other till the downstairs doorbell rings.
Stevie jumps slightly and points to the door awkwardly. “I should go. See you later?”
My fists clench. “See you later.”
She gives me one last look after grabbing her coat before shutting the door and locking it.
I bang my forehead against the wall, go to the fridge, and grab a beer.
It’s going to be a long fucking night.
Chapter Twenty-Five
STEVIE
Winona Ryder yells at her parents about something dumb on the screen as Brad offers me more popcorn. I grab a kernel, wanting to be nice, but in truth, I have no appetite.
We’re already three-quarters of the way into the eighties cult classic filmHeathers,at the revival theater, one town away from Driscoll. Although I prefer the musical for more reasons than the music and screenplay, the movie’s okay. Brad was sweet in planning the whole date and trying to guess what a girl like me would like. He didn’t make a bad choice. Still, I was hoping we could talk a little more. In truth, I don’t know Brad all that well. We only really talked about music, and maybe that’s why I’m not ecstatic about him wanting to get pizza afterward.
I should be having fun. This is the kind of date I would have loved to go on with Andrew before everything, but something’s missing. And I know that something is probably a dark-blue-eyed, brooding twenty-year-old musician who’s currently doing God knows what in our apartment.
No. Levi said he didn’t mind, and even if he was lying, I need to see if maybe the high I feel with him is only because of ourmutual attraction or if it’s because I have feelings for him. For some reason, I had the idea that to figure all of that out, I had to go on a date with another guy. It could also be because I wanted to be a bit petty. And now I feel like shit because I realized that I’m kind of taking advantage of Brad.
“You okay?” Brad whispers in my ear.
