11
AFEW DAYS LATER, I’ve all but forgotten about Matt. Oscar wraps his arms around my waist and tries to pull me back to bed.
I can’t help but smile at my reflection in the mirror — I’m putting on my favorite earrings, a gift from Corrie. “You’re insatiable.”
“What can I say.” He smirks. “You’re just so sexy, Bernie.”
I jerk around. “Stop calling me that.”
I made the mistake of telling him once that my middle name was Bernadette. Ever since, he calls me Bernie when he wants to get on my nerves.
I push him away. “I’ve got my dress on and I’m not taking it off.”
He slides a hand up my thigh. “The dress can stay on.”
“Are you for real?” I ask. “We just did it, like, twenty minutes ago.”
He looks over at the clock on my bedside table. “Actually, it was more like an hour ago. I’m raring to go again.”
“Well, I’m not. I need to get ready. And you do too.” I stare at the disaster that is his head; a mussed up mess, less Robert Pattinson, more bird’s nest. “I’m not bringing you if you don’t do anything with your hair.”
He hops off the bed. He’s wearing nothing but boxers, pizza themed. He likes to ask me if he looks delicious when he wears those. It was funny the first time, but now it’s just annoying.
“What is this party for again?” he asks as he slips into his suit pants. “A wedding party?”
“It’s an engagement party,” I tell him. “Everyone will be there. It’s a way for us to congratulate the lucky couple.”
“Can’t we just congratulate them on their wedding day?”
I’m silent for a beat. The man does make an excellent point. “Well, it’s also a chance for the two families to get to know each other.”
“Dickwad will be there?”
“Yep,” I say, touching up my makeup. “Dickwad will be there.” I’m looking good in a sheer pink dress, and I have the perfect stilettos I bought at Forever 21 — black peep-toes with a black ankle lace accent. I’m giddy when I slip them on and tie up the laces.
“Holy shit, girl,” Oscar says. “Those are hot. How ‘bout we take off the dress and leave the shoes on?”
The offer is tempting — I’m suddenly feeling very sexy. I could definitely go for another round, but time is running out, and I still need to work on my hair. I decide to wear it in a loose up-do. It’s the perfect style — classic casual — it says I don’t really care, but I still look good.
The thing is, Ido care. I care a lot. I want Matt to see me and get hard. I don’t want to sleep with him. I just want him to want me. I know it’s fucked up, but that’s what he’s done to me, I guess. He’s fucked me up good.
Oscar is fiddling with the buttons on his dress shirt. The curves of his torso look amazing in the shirt — it fits perfectly. “Who else will be there? Anyone else I know?”
“I invited Corrie and Gabbie.”
“Really? You can do that?”
“Well, it’s my mom’s party, and I can do whatever I want. It’ll be fun.”
I think about it for a beat.Whydid I invite the girls? I don’t need to ponder the question too long. It’s obvious that I want to show Matt that I’ve changed. I have friends now, I have a ‘boyfriend’. I’m cool.
Pathetic.
I shake my head. Maybe I’ll just ignore the guy all night. Why am I giving him so much power?
I turn to look at Oscar. He’s slipping on his jacket. He suits it. He’s beautiful. Even the hair works. “Leave your hair,” I say, “it’s perfect that way.”
He cocks a brow. “Really? You sure?”
