Page 53 of A Song for You

All while soaking wet, of course, which was the only bright spot of our interaction. When he pushed himself into the server and the sodas and wines toppled over in what felt like slow motion and landed spectacularly all over his pants, I felt nothing but pure joy.

It was perfect.

And so deserved.

“I swear, Soph. If he shows up with a date—or two, since that’s clearly his MO—I’m going to murder you.” I give the universal sign for slicing her throat.

The traitor just smiles serenely. “I thought he was rather charming.”

“A snake can be charming as it slithers up to you, but it’s still a snake.”

Glaring at her in the mirror, I apply my lipstick. Red. Not kissable.

“Why are you so mad at him, anyway?” she asks. “You were all ‘oh, I understand where he’s coming from’ on Monday.”

“That was before he stood me up at lunch. If he had been an adult and just shown up, or ya know, if he hadn’t arranged the entire thing to begin with, I would understand. But this is a game. If he thinks he’s going to get in my pants and then walk away, he has another thing coming. I was interested in him. Not his cock.”

She arches a brow. “You sure about that?”

“Shut it.” I storm to the couch to the tinkling sound of her laughter. “Come on, let’s get this night over with.”

Two hours later, after a ride in a cab that smelled like takeout, standing in line, and fighting for drinks at the bar, we’re settled at a table in a corner of the room, sipping our cocktails and relaxing. Who am I kidding? Relaxation is a fantasy right now. Because Jay could show up at any minute.

Or worse, he could not show up at all.

It would have been better if he hadn’t materialized at all today. But now he’s got my mind all jumbled as to what it wants. As to what I want.

Sophie’s eyes dance as she gives me a once-over for what’s got to be the tenth time since we got here. “He’s going to shit himself when he sees you.”

Damn right. I paired a black skater skirt with a white T-shirt that exposes my stomach. I’m wearing black suspenders and a garter belt attached to black thigh-high stockings with a beautiful lace design at the top. A pair of killer knee-high black boots with the classic red sole complete the outfit. I feel like I could chew him up and spit him out. And I’m not going to lie, the idea of walking over him in these heels is far too tempting.

But none of it matters if he doesn’t show up.

The cherry on top, though, is the blond wig Sophie had Dexter bring home from one of his photo shoots. It’s giving me a bit of a Heather Locklear vibe, especially paired with this absurd outfit.

Eh, who am I kidding? I look fucking hot.

My phone lights up in my hand.

Jay: Send me the name of the club. I tried the place Sophie mentioned, but I think she gave me the wrong name.

My chest tightens. Do I really want to see him tonight?

Before I can chicken out, I gulp down my drink, close my eyes, and send him a pin of my location.

Jay’s response is immediate.

Jay: You’re really at Rebel? You’re not just fucking with me?

I laugh uncomfortably and wave my phone in front of Sophie. “Why does he think I’m fucking with him?”

Sophie’s legs are draped across Dexter’s lap, and he has one arm around her as he speaks to the guy beside him. She shrugs and taps him on the shoulder, whispering something in his ear. When he responds, Sophie’s entire body tenses. “Seriously?” she shouts so loud I can hear her over the music.

Dexter eyes me and then looks back at Sophie with a devilish grin before whispering in her ear again.

“What?” I finally shout, moving closer so I can find out what the actual fuck is going on.

Sophie sighs and glares at Dexter again. She hands me back my phone, and before she can fill me in, another text from Jay pops up.