I’m so stressed right now. I can hardly type.
“Has he broken down?”
I glance up at my date. She seems genuinely concerned, and I’m such an asshole. I put my phone on silent. I want to be a nice guy. I decide to be kind and eat fast.
This date was fucked from the start, and I know it’s going nowhere—but the least I can do is go through the motions all the way to dessert.
I pay up and walk my non-girlfriend to her car, silently thanking Lewis for the tip—if I’d picked her up, I’d have to drive her home now.
“Well…” She puts a hand on the roof. “Thanks for dinner. I had a great time.”
She gnaws at her lip, eyeing me.Fuck. Is she expecting a kiss? A second date? Maybe she’s thinking we could go on to a bar, or something.
“Don’t worry about it,” she says, like she’s read my mind.
She gives me a shy smile and leans in for a hug.
“I’m not expecting anything more from you. Maybe we can grab a coffee every now and then—run through your latest game.”
“I suck.”
She laughs. “That’s a little harsh. At least we tried.” She shrugs. “It was nice.”
She nudges me. Why don’t I feel anything right now? A spark, a tug—the stuff they talk about in romances.
“And to be honest with you, Donovan…” She pauses. “I was kinda considering canceling on you. There’s a guy on your team; he’s in one of my classes… No hard feelings, right?”
I should be pissed she’s chosen another dude over me, but it’s actually freeing.
I don’t feel guilty when I wish her good night, and as I jump in my car and head for the Java, I’m so incredibly relieved. I park and make a beeline for the bar.
The place is packed, the air hot and thick as I push my way through the crowds. It’s busier than usual.
Carter’s sister has been working here for years, and thanks to Juliet, we’ve got our very own Campus Drivers table. My buddies are right where they always are at the far end of the room, and as I stride over to join them, I realize they’re all looking in the same direction. I can’t see Carrie at the table, and I fight back a flicker of concern. I hope she hasn’t left already.
Lane shifts in his seat, reaching for his glass, locking eyes with me as I pick my way through the crowd. He doesn’t seem surprised to see me, but there’s a look on his face that I don’t like. He laughs, elbowing Lois and pointing to the right. I follow his gaze.
Being as tall as I am, it doesn’t take much craning to see what’s happening over there by the bar.
Carrie?I start.It’s fucking Carrie!
I freeze. Suddenly, Lewis’s message makes a whole lot more sense.Change of plan.I swing a right, heading straight for my new target, and all that second-guessing goes flying out the window. There she is, dancing with some tall, dumb-looking dude. My heart is pounding, my jealousy blinding. I want to grab that chair and smash it over his head. Maybe that asshole is picking up on the negative vibes flowing his way, because he bends down to whisper something into Carrie’s ear, and he breaks off to sit next to Lois, who ruffles his hair.
All I feel is total betrayal.
“Don!”
As if by magic, Lane and Lewis are suddenly right there in front of me, each with a hand on my shoulders. They’re talking, but I can’t tear my eyes away from Carrie.
“You seem a little tense, buddy.” Lewis pulls a faux-concerned face.
“Who the fuck’s that guy?” I hiss.
“That’s Jeff. He’s cool.”
Slowly, my gaze settles back on Lewis, my friend. Make that my ex-friend.
“Him and Carrie just clicked.”
