“Just my name—which he changed to Lizzy something.” That had thrown me for a loop. “I told him I love hiking.” She cackled, and I shoved her. “You’re an archvillain, you know that?”
I felt like I’d survived a head-on collision. I was still alive. Scarred but standing.
“You never would’ve talked to him if I hadn’t dared you to.” She disappeared into the stall, calling, “And he’s super into you.”
A guy that hot, it was a miracle he’d even looked at me. The power of the dare had given me borrowed courage. “Who knew faking a thwarted childhood romance could be such a great pick-up tactic?” Guilt ate at me. “No way he believed all that, right?”
The toilet flushed, and she emerged. “Didn’t he say he was a TV weatherman from Indiana?” She dug out some burgundy lip gloss and leaned into the mirror to apply it.
“Do you think he was lying?”
She shrugged. “How many TV weathermen have you ever met? And why’s he here if he lives in Indiana? Yeah, I think he was using the situation to his own advantage.” She shot me a look in the mirror. “The way he smoldered at you.”
Had he? “But what if he thinks I’m someone I’m not?”
“Guess you’ll have to ask.”
I growled at Chelsea for getting me into this web of lies, then took my turn in the stall, analyzing our every exchange. He’d asked me about my tuba for Christ’s sake. Then he’d looked at me with soft green eyes, and every angle of his body announced that he was interested in me. Here. Now. Not some forgotten schoolmate. Definitely smoldering.
But what if he was playing me, too? Claiming to be from out of town added urgency to our encounter, the easier to score a commitment-free one-nighter with a lonely woman.
I zipped my jeans and opened the stall. “You and Bas seemed to be getting on well.” Trapped in their flirtatious repartee, she’d gotten his attention. “And a chef? Was he tailor-made in a lab for you?”
She blew out a breath. “I am in so much trouble. Why couldn’thebe from Indiana?”
She’d find a way to keep Bas at arm’s length, like always. I wished she’d open up to someone for once, and not just for a dare. Everything she’d shared at the bar had been true. She really didn’t think she was good enough for anyone, which was bullshit because she was smart, fun, and loyal as fuck. A great best friend. A guy would be so lucky.
I flipped on the faucet and ran my hands under the water, then squirted out the soap. “You think I didn’t notice how you tried to weaponize authenticity to scare him away?”
She handed me a couple of paper towels. “I was being honest. It was either bare my wounds or tell him—authentically—how much I wanted to climb him like a tree.”
I snorted. “Do you want to go home with him?”
“I probably shouldn’t.” She shook her head. “Nothing good can come from spending more time with Bas.”
This was the most interest she’d shown in anyone in a while, so I said, “Look. I’ll ask Evan to walk me to my place, and then you can decide what to do about Bas. Take him to your place if you want.”
She scoffed. “As if.”
No guy ever breached her fortress, but still. “I’m just saying. I’ll play wingman and lure Evan away. Maybe Bas will invite you over.”
She shot me adon’t bullshit the bullshitterlook. “You can just admit you want to spend more time with Evan.”
“He’s probably going to ditch me after I come clean.” I’d have to. Before this went any further, I needed to tell him my real name and start over with boring reality. This was why I hated meeting guys at bars. Even when we weren’t explicitly role playing as other people, bar romance was an illusion.
Still, Chelsea was right that Evan intrigued me, and what was the danger in taking a chance? Other than getting murder-holed or catching an STD, of course. In reality, I suspected the worst he could do was make me like him and then ghost me. Did he like me? Was he even attracted to me?
Or was this all a game to him?
I wadded up the paper towels and shot them into the trash for two points. “Let’s get this party started.”
We exited the bar onto the Downtown Mall, Charlottesville’s outdoor pedestrian zone with bars, coffee shops, and music venues. It was practically deserted.
Evan waited, hands in his pockets, looking about as anxious as I felt. I decided to cut through all the bullshit right away and announced, “My performance has come to an end,” bowing like an actress after a play.
He stepped closer. “I’m sorry, what?”
I winced, bracing for the fallout. “No,I’msorry.”
