Icouldbe patient, kind, to him. Just not tonight.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Blake
Junior year in college
Cincinnati
God, I was nervous. Really nervous.
“Hey, you.” One of my roommates popped her head into my room. She whistled. “You look hot. Where are you going tonight? One of Creight & Barrel’s nightclubs?”
That was her nickname, which wasn’t a nickname at all, for Creighton. I must’ve made a face because she straightened up. “Uh oh. What is it? Are you two fighting?”
When weren’t we? I just shrugged. “I’m not going to one of his clubs.” I met her gaze in the mirror, letting my hands drop back down to my side. I’d been fussing with my hair. “I have a date.”
Her eyes got big, really big. She sucked in her cheeks and let out another whistle. “Damn. Okay. I didn’t see that coming. Crate’n’Barrel knows about the date?”
My jaw clenched. Everything in me tensed. I jerked up a shoulder and went back to getting ready.
“Who is it?”
“Tommy Pritsch.”
Her eyebrows drew together. She was trying to place him.
“He’s in my cross-cultural class. He’s nice.”
She still couldn’t place him.
I relented, “He’s on the football team.”
Her eyes went big again. “Damn.ThatTommy Pritsch? Didn’t he date one of the cheerleaders last year?”
“Thought you’remyroommate?”
She flushed. “Sorry. Yeah. You’re right. What do you have planned for the night?”
I smoothed my hand down my shirt. I wasn’t sure what to wear, but since it was spring and not that cold, I opted for a cargo skirt. A white tank top. Black bra with a bra strap that would show. I had a cute jacket that matched my skirt if it got cold. My hair was perfect since I went to the salon and spent the whole day waiting for a blowout. Sometimes my hair got frizzy, and it was that type of weather again.
Time was spent at the spa. Manicure, pedicure, and I learned how to do some fresh makeup techniques. I generally liked the natural and shiny look, but tonight I was going with the smokey-eye effect. Red popping lipstick.
I did look good. Was it too much? “Is this ...?” I turned and waved a hand up and down myself. “Okay? Too much? Maybe I should just wear jeans.”
Jeans were a good idea. A better idea. Jeans were safe.
She blocked me. “No way. You look hot, like smoking tamale hot. My only thing is that, really? Tommy Pritsch? The guy’s a player, Blakester.”
“You don’t think he’ll be interested in me?”
She rolled her eyes. “Jesus Christ, have you seen yourself? You’re too good for him.” She gave me a reassuring smile. “You look good, and since when do we dress for the guy? We dress for us. Am I right?”
I smiled back, some of the nerves smoothing out. “Yeah. You’re right. We do.”
“He’s damned lucky to have you on his arm tonight. Just have fun. Don’t overthink anything.”
“I will. Did you need something?”
