“Yeah, that happens,” she says sadly.
“The worst part is I’m so sick of being walked on, and yet I continue to put myself through it. I’m lying to myself about what I have with these guys, glorifying it or something, when it’s really so simple. I give. They take.” I toss back another gulp and start to feel a little better, still pathetic, but at least the burn of humiliation has now been tempered with a warm belly full of booze.
A heavy pounding on our door breaks our reverie.
Mindy’s eyes widen on me as she calls, “Who is it?”
“It’s Clifford!”
I groan and Mindy grins. “I’ll leave you two alone. Just”—she leans in—“remember what I said. Explore all avenues and take it for what it’s worth. Experience. That’s it.”
Detach. Okay. I can do that.
She crosses to her bedroom and Clifford pounds again. “I know you’re in there, Elle. I saw your car downstairs.”
I wobble to my feet and open the door. “What are you doing here?”
His gaze slides to the bottle in my hand and he grins. “One-woman party, huh?”
I don’t answer him, but continue to glare.
He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Why did you leave?”
My jaw practically hits the fucking floor.
He holds up a hand. “I didn’t invite those girls over, I swear. They just showed up and John invited them to stay.”
“They ate my dinner.”
He runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, that was fucked up. I should’ve said something. I’m sorry. I get so caught up in those games. I just…” His eyes meet mine and I see genuine remorse there. “Can I make this up to you?”
“I don’t know—”
“Come on, babe. I drove all the way over here…”
Five miles.
“…apologizing…”
Eh…weak apology.
“…and you left before I got to ask you something important.”
I blink up at him. “What?”
He steps close so that his feet are now over the threshold and he’s standing toe-to-toe with me. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately, about us, and”—he slides a hand into my hair, cupping my jaw—“I want to take you out.”
“Out, like…now?”
His lips tilt in a tiny half smile, and my heart softens a little. “No, out as in on a date—for Valentine’s Day.”
My breath catches in my throat and makes his smile widen. He doesn’t realize my shock isn’t because he offered to take me out; it’s because I hate Valentine’s Day.
I swore the night Stewart Moorehead ruined it for me I’d never acknowledge the damn day again. That I’d spend it doing boring shit that would be a big ole fuck you in the face of Cupid.
But maybe Mindy’s right.
What’s the harm in letting him take me out? If nothing else, it’ll be a little reimbursement for all the meals I’ve bought him and his friends. Who knows? Maybe I’ll even have fun and finally be able to replace the horrid memory of that day with something positive.
Something normal.
“So.…? Will you go out with me on Valentine’s Day?”
I shrug casually. “I guess so.”
His eyes narrow. “Well, shit, don’t get too excited.”
“It’s a bullshit holiday.”
“I won’t argue that, but that doesn’t mean we won’t have fun, right?”
I nod into his hand.
“Good, now are you gonna let me in so I can take you to bed and return the favor you gave me earlier today?”
That’s how it is with us. An orgasm for an orgasm. Although if I were keeping score, I’d say he’s leading on the receiving end, but whatever.
Rather than answer him verbally I just turn and head for my room.
Detach and have fun.
Learn what you like.
Maybe I’ve been approaching this all wrong to begin with.
Never too late to change. Starting now.
Eight
Killian
My eyes blur with fatigue as I read about women’s rights written by an 18th century feminist for my World Lit class. It’s close to midnight, and I’m considering calling it a night when my cell chimes with a new text.
I pull my glasses off, rub my eyes, and then pop them back on to read it.
Hey. Are you up?
Yes.
Got a second to talk?
Sure.
I palm my phone, and when it chimes, I hit “accept” and press it to my ear. “Ax, what’s up? Everything okay?”
“Fine, yeah.” She’s whispering. “What’re you doing?”
Pushing up from the table, I take a few steps to my bed and flop on it. “Getting ready to hit the sack. You?”
“Same.”
Silence builds between us.
“You sure everything’s okay?”
“Oh, yeah, it’s just…” She sighs heavy and deep. “I wanted to talk to you about Valentine’s Day.”
My heart sinks into my stomach. “What about it?”
“I thought, I don’t know, we always spend it doing nothing and, well…”
Doing nothing? As if our time together, even doing mundane things, is nothing to her?
“Clifford made plans for us this year, so…”
Fucking fantastic. First, that prick gets her lips and her body, and now he’s taking our day. I grind my teeth. “I understand.”
“You do?”
No. “Yeah, he’s your… You guys are seeing each other, so I’d expect you to spend it together.”