Page 48 of Meet Cute the Virgin

“And?” Teddy is waiting for the bad part.

“And… I don’t know,” I huff, my mind going back to those big hands of his. I’m thinking about that knife leaving his fingers before I could blink. The way he moved, efficient and violent, and then looked at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.

I wanted him to kiss me or something. Nope, nothing. Instead, he barely spoke, and when he did, it was only to tell me to go inside and that he’d see me tomorrow.

“Girl.” She hides her smiling mouth behind her glass, like it’s not clear.

“Don’t.”

“You want to fuck the man who probably bugged your underwear.”

I burst into laughter because it’s so ridiculous. It might be a little sweet too. Guess I’m crazy too.

I stand up too fast. The vault tilts.

“See if there are any more.”

I start stripping some of my clothes off to see if we can find more. I check the lining of the shirt, but it’s clean. Sneakers off. I shake them. “I think maybe that was the only one?” I’ll have to check my other clothes.

“What about...” Teddy’s eyes drop to my locket. The one my father gave me on my Sweet 16.

I pause, lifting it into my hands. My father gave it to me before he died. I never take it off.

My fingers find the clasp. It sticks, then opens. There is a picture of Dad and me. I look at the other side. I close one eye and see a glint. It’s small and metallic.

“Oh my God.” I hold it up. “He’s been in my locket. My father’s locket.” This man truly has no boundaries.

Teddy leans in, champagne forgotten. “That’s romantic. In a completely fucked way.”

“I don’t know what to think anymore.” I close my fist around it.

“Keep it?” Teddy asks.

“Keep it.” I fasten the locket back around my neck. Our laughter grows, the champagne bubbling between us. We forget about the two men that chased us down. What I don’t forget about is Tristan.

“Wait. We just had trauma, and they left us.”

“You’re right.” Teddy nods adamantly. “We could be up here crying for all they know.” I nod along with her.

“They don’t know we’re sipping champagne and hanging with Reginald.”

“Yeah.” Teddy reaches down beside her and comes up with a giant canister of cheese puff balls. “Open,” she orders, and I do. I finally catch one on the sixth try, crunching it between my teeth. “I’m amazing.”

“Not bad for being as old as Reginald.” She opens her own mouth, tipping the jar back. A few of the cheese balls land in her mouth, but more fall all around her.

“We should call Sasha.” I don’t know where the thought comes from, but it pops right into my head, sounding like the best idea I’ve ever had. I grin, evil and champagne-fuzzy.

“Tell her that her third nose job was too far.”

“Tell her we’re fucking Tristan in a vault full of gold. I’ll tell her both.”

“Yeah, you will,” Teddy encourages.

“Phone me,” I say, holding out my hand. I expect a cell phone, but she tells me she has to grab it. She hops up and digs into a giant Chanel trunk. I don’t even want to know how much that piece cost. A second later she comes up with a gold rotary phone. The handset rests like a crown on its brass cradle, connected by a thick, coiled cord. She sets it down between us with a mechanical click.

“The fuck am I going to do with that?”

“You wanted a phone.”