“Seriously? Are you the first man in history not to want this?” she asked, using her hands to motion down her body.
“Apparently so. Gunther isn’t interested in more than a friendship,” I said, not hiding my sarcasm. “Come on, Britani. You don’t even know my name, which is Cutler, by the way. But why do you feel the need to come on so strong? We don’t even know one another.”
“I thought that was your thing? You haven’t had a serious relationship, right?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m guessing you like to fuck, and I wanted to show you how good it could be with me.”
With our parents sitting outside? Is she serious?
“I date. We have conversations. We go out a few times. It’s not like I’m banging people in bathrooms while having dinner with my parents.”
She narrowed her gaze, which was difficult to make out because of the lashes weighing down her eyelids. “‘Gunther’ was my nickname for you, by the way. You don’t look like a Cutler. You look like a Gunther.”
I tossed the broken glass in the trash and leaned the photo of my favorite tree in the backyard against the wall for now.
“Listen, let’s just go back out there and call this done, all right?”
“You’re rejecting me? Look at me!” she gasped. “You really don’t want this?”
She wasn’t lacking in self-confidence at the moment, but I would put money on the fact that it was probably to mask a deep-rooted insecurity, because this was just too much.
“I do not. I’d like to be friends.” I started to walk past her, in hopes she’d let me get to the door without any more theatrics.
I needed to get out of here.
But before that could happen, she shocked the shit out of me again by stomping her foot down hard before breaking out into hysterical tears.
No warning. No sniffling. No eye blinking.
Just a complete meltdown.
We’re talking about this girl going from zero to one hundred in a matter of three seconds.
She wailed and cried, and I was fairly certain she’d left a mark on my wood floors with her heel.
If my parents and Gracie’s parents weren’t the ones who’d set this up, I would’ve assumed the guys were punking me, and one of them was going to jump through the window laughing any minute now.
No such luck.
“Why? Tell me why!” she sobbed. “Why would you not want me?”
“Hey. Hey,” I said, placing my hands on her shoulders. “What is happening here? We don’t even know one another.”
“My therapist says that rejection is a trigger for me.” She gulped in a few breaths. “And I am fucking triggered, Gunther!” she shouted so loud that I wanted to cover my ears with my hands.
I needed to get the fuck out of here.
I needed to come up with something that would appease her.
“Listen. It’s not you. I wasn’t honest with you earlier, and my family doesn’t know this, because I’m not ready to share it with them. But I’m actually seeing someone. That’s why I can’t do this.” It was partially true. I was seeing someone. The woman sitting outside, probably wondering what the fuck was going on in here. But Britani was most definitely not my type, regardless, and I was desperate to get out of here unscathed and without making this dinner party any more uncomfortable than it already was.
Her tears stopped instantly. This woman could be a trained actress with the way she could turn on and off her emotions. “Oh. So you feel guilty because you’ve already committed to someone else? But I thought you didn’t do relationships?”
“I don’t normally. But I met someone, and I’ve been with her for a while now. I’m just not ready to tell my parents, because I’m not sure where it’s going. I don’t want to complicate things.” I was fucking spitballing now, although in all honesty, I didn’t know where things were going with me and Gracie. Her plan had a shit ton of holes in it, but I wasn’t ready to press the matter just yet.
She wiped her cheeks, and I reached for some tissues and handed them to her. I startled and jumped back when she looked up at me before realizing it wasn’t a spider on her face, but one of her fake lashes, currently stuck to her cheek. I motioned for her to look in the mirror, and she quickly reattached what I thought was a tarantula to her eyelid and then smiled at me.
“I’m sure it’s difficult for you to stay faithful, and I’m probably the worst temptation imaginable,” she said. She pulled the door open, stepped out, and then glanced over her shoulder to speak to me. “So do you have any single friends you could introduce me to, Gunther?”
“I’ll have to get back to you on that,” I said, trying to keep my tone even. “I’d like to keep my personal life private at the moment, if you don’t mind. Do you think you could keep the conversation we just had between us? I think we can say that we’ve both agreed to be just friends.”
