“Hey, all’s fair in love and late-stage capitalism. The last guy I was seeing bought me this.”
She pinched the hem of her black dress.
“I mean, but that’s just one outfit,” Toby said, jealousy spiking through him like poison.
“It’s also Mugler, my guy. It cost three grand.”
Toby’s forehead contracted like a concertina. “Fuck!”
“I know.” Tabby flashed him a guilty smile. “But he offered, and I do like nice things.”
Toby bit back more four-letter words. He was doing okay money-wise, but he was only an executive assistant. Years away from keeping Tabby in designer clothes—if he ever got there at all.
“Are you, like, disgusted by me or something?” Tabby asked.
“God, no.” He tried to scrape the horrified look off his face. “I, uh, just thought you said you didn’t know any rich guys?”
“Ahh, Grato moved back to Canada,and fuck,going to live there and freezing my tits off all the time.” Tabby heaved a long sigh. “Anyway, now you know my deepest, darkest secret. Ready to tell me yours?”
Toby swallowed. She wasn’t going to stop asking. And he couldn’t lie. She was sharp. She knew when people were lying better than most. The thing was, hedidhave a secret good enough to put her off the ‘Edgar talking to Noah’ scent, but he didn’t want to use it. Especially now he knew she wanted nothing more than to be some other dude’s sugar baby.
“Toberson?” Tabby’s hand found his, cool fingers weaving through his burning ones. “You can trust me, you know?”
He didn’t know, especially when it came to a secret as embarrassing as his. But what other options did he have? He swallowed, gathering the last of his drunk courage. “The secret is I’m, uh… I’ve never slept with anyone. Before. Or at all.”
“Oh…” there was a stunned silence. “So, you’re a?—”
“Yes,” he interrupted. If she actually said the word ‘virgin’ to him, he’d die, just expire all over her pillows.
“Hmm,” Tabby said thoughtfully. “Is this because of your childhood extreme-o-Christian stuff?”
Toby’s insides writhed.
This is better than her knowing you're hiding her missing dad from her,he reminded himself.Get on with it.
“Pretty much. And my first girlfriend turned out to be a lesbian, so we never… got anywhere.”
“Yeah, you don’t really look like Kristen Stewart. But you’re super cute, Tobes. Tall. Square jaw. Nice eyes. Plenty of girls would.”
Toby forced another smile. It was a compliment, but it was hard not to focus on the part where ‘plenty of girls’ clearly didn’t include ‘Tabitha DaSilva.’ He might be tall with the beginnings of a six-pack, but Tabby had never looked at him with one ounce of the lust he’d seen in her eyes whenever anyone brought up Cillian Murphy. And she probably never would. Unless he won the lotto and could make the sugar daddy thing happen…
“Don’t you work with a bunch of chick money molls?” Tabby asked.
“You mean female finance officers?”
“Sure. Why don’t you date them?”
Because I’m in love with you.“I dunno.”
Tabby stared at him, waiting for more information.
“They’re usually married. And I feel awkward around them most of the time. All girls, really.”
“Seriously? You’re fine around me. But I’m probably, like, the exact opposite of your type,” Tabby said, slaying him without the slightest awareness. “What about dating apps? Surely you can find some, like, P.E. teacher or coffee bean consultant to co-own a Ford Fiesta with?”
Toby was beginning to think he’d have a brain haemorrhage before the morning was over. “Where… Why do you think you’re not my type?”
“Dude, you don’t have to be nice to me just because I told you I’m having an existential crisis. Seriously though, do you want me to help you make a dating profile? I did one for my mate Davs, and she gets mad dick now.”
