Aaron: Are you skipping class?
Greta: Never. I’m glad to see you worried about my education.
Aaron: Where are you?
Greta: Muahah. I like this.
Aaron: I don’t. Damn it, Gabs. Well, are you almost done? Want to grab a drink?
Greta: God yes. I’ll meet you at the Cams in twenty?
Aaron: I’ll be there.
My mood improved and I headed toward the bar. It wasn’t quite happy hour and I managed to enter the campus favorite without being noticed much. Sure, the bouncers all shook my hand, but they remained cool about it. It wasn’t until I found a back booth that a group of girls, all looking like they planned to hit a high-class club, spied me. They sauntered over, bringing with them an assaulting array of perfume.
“Hilly, can we buy you a drink?” a tall, leggy brunette purred at me. She didn’t ask before sliding into the chair across from me. “Please?”
“Ah, I’m meeting someone here. I’m good. Thank you, though.” I smiled, tight and fake, and my heart beat faster. Her friends held out phones by the bar and sweat beaded on my forehead. They held up the phones in our direction and I gripped the table.Jesus. I’ll never trust a girl again.
“Oh, come on.” She pursed her shiny red lips and a waft of her sweet perfume hit me. She leaned over the table with her face a foot from mine and I leaned back as far as I could, my back hurting from how hard I pushed. “One drink, Mr. Hill.”
“I said no.” Anger seethed from my voice, her face flinching for a second. “My girlfriend is on her way. She wouldn’t appreciate this.”
“Ah, yes. Greta, is it?” She leaned back and crossed her arms, her ample cleavage at least four inches long. Her too-full lip curled on one side as her voice lowered. “Rumor has it the entire relationship is staged. I write for theWho’s Hot, Who’s Not?blog on campus and I came over here for an interview.”
I didn’t react. I couldn’t react. Instead, I smiled a tad menacingly and leaned toward her this time.That’s why she’s here.“Regardless of what I do or don’t say, you’re going to write whatever the hell you want to get views and traffic on your site.”
She licked her bottom lip, flashing her eyes at me, before shaking her head. “No, actually. I don’t write bullshit.”
“Sorry, honey, have you lived under a rock? I don’t trust anyone.” I ended the conversation with a finality to my tone. She got the message and nodded at me before rejoining her friends. My stomach tightened until they left the bar and I prayed I hadn’t made things worse. Something good was happening and it would only be a matter of time before something fucked it up. That was the pattern of my life.
“Ronnie!” Greta’s voice broke my self-deprecating thoughts as she waltzed into the bar with the joy very few people had. “Where’s my boyfriend?”
I smiled and pulled her into my lap. I smacked a kiss on her, then another ten. She made the softest, most perfect moan and I deepened the kiss so our tongues molded together. I refused to stop and we continued until she pulled back, red splotches all down her neck. I grinned. “Hey.”
She flicked my forehead before moving to the seat the blogger had just left. “What a welcome. Did you order drinks?”
“No, not yet.” I felt stupid. I should’ve done that.
“Okay. I’ll go grab some. Liquor or beer? I know what you like.” She stood and held out a hand to prevent me from standing. “Chill, let me buy you a drink.”
“Uh, beer. If you insist.”
“I do insist.” Her gaze went from my eyes to my mouth for a split second before she went to the bar. I studied her. For the first time in my goddamn life, I was thankful to have a girlfriend. Yes, it was fake. Yes, the sex was the best I’ve ever had.
She liked the same things I did.
She had the same humor.
She cussed.
She ate anything.
She could kiss like a damn porn star. She craved sex just as much as I did. And she didn’t give a flying fuck about me playing baseball. My palms sweated as she walked back, an uncomfortable and unfamiliar feeling overwhelming my chest. “I got you a craft beer, Ronnie. It’s very hipster. I figured since you stopped in the hipster store. Are you going to wear fake glasses now?”
“I’ll think about it.” I grinned and held my beer up to hers for a cheer. “Thanks, baby.”
Her eyes widened for a second, so fast I almost missed it, but I knew every one of her facial tics. “You’re welcome.”
