She laughs, but her expression is serious. “Alright, babe. Spill.”
Flopping back on the couch, I cover my face with my hands. They smell like cookies instead of cum now, which I suppose is progress. “Everything is a nightmare.”
“Is it Rome?”
I haven’t really told her much about what’s going on with the dates and the grade book I decided to use. The last several days were a major distraction, my mind solely on Rome and how to get him to want me. I feel slightly bad that I haven’t disclosed this all to her, so I spend several minutes blurting it all out, and by the time I’m done, her nose is scrunched up.
“You need to stop taking advice from your brother. He’s a complete dipshit.”
I laugh. “Yeah, but it sounded like fun.”
“And is it? Because it sounds to me like you’re having a crisis, and this weird grade book thing isn’t helping.”
“It’s not about the grades,” I tell her. “I mean, that whole thing isn’t serious. If I want to fuck him, I’ll fuck him. But…” She waits patiently, staring as I try to find the right words. “I don’t know if I should let myself fall for him.”
At that, she bursts into laughter. “Oh, honey, as if you could stop yourself. You’ve been in love with that asshole since you and I were together.”
My chest burns with a flush that creeps toward my neck. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“Oh, it was. It made saying yes to Drew so much easier. I wasn’t just giving you shit about it, you know,” she said, softer and gentler this time. “It was obvious to everyone but you.”
“I was just pissed off about the way he left.”
“Yes,” she says slowly, “because you wanted his penis. And his heart. And his heart-penis.”
“I hate you.”
She grins. “I know.” Leaning back, she kicks the edge of her foot up on the table. “Have you told him how you feel?”
“No,” I groan. “If I do that, he’ll run screaming in the other direction.”
“Yeah, I very much doubt that. A man who only wants to get into your pants isn’t going to put himself through all this. That dude is hot. He can get laid anywhere. With anyone.”
That might be a bit of an exaggeration, but not much. Rome is ridiculously attractive. The grumpy asshole thing he has going on draws people in like moths to a flame in the club scene.
That he went home with me that night says something.
Doesn’t it?
“You two need to communicate. You speak his language now. You have no excuse.”
Ugh, I hate that she’s right again. “Stop being reasonable and comfort me.”
“If you want someone to listen to your bullshit and not tell you when you’re wrong, get a dog.”
I meet her gaze. “How about a cat?”
“No, thank you. A cat will eat you if you die.”
God, she and Rome are going to end up best friends, aren’t they?
Spin class ends up canceled when only two people register. It’s not uncommon. Half the attendees signed up for memberships as a misguided New Year’s resolution, and most of them lasted a lot longer than I expected them to. But this is the time of year we usually see a dramatic drop in attendance.
I make a note to cancel the class entirely if this becomes a trend and then decide to hit the free weights for a while because I’ve been slacking, and if I want to get as handsy with Rome as I fantasize about, I can’t let myself lose any muscle mass.
On my way out, I catch Thom’s gaze. He’s behind the desk, chatting to Leaf, who waves me over. I have time to make a small pit stop, so I lean against the counter and bump fists with him.
His knuckles are caked in dirt.
