I glance around. Thank God for the darkly tinted windows. “Your truck is bigger than my dorm room. I’m pretty sure.”
“Aw.” He fusses with my hair. “You want me to drive you home?”
I cringe, wondering if Violet thinks I’ve been kidnapped. “I have to find the evil roommate.” Wandering off with Blake has wrecked all my plans to bond with Violet. Nice going, Jess.
He reaches into the front seat with his giant arm. “Here’s your double-barreled slingshot. And your shirt.”
I hurriedly put my bra on, and he does something with the condom. I hear the crinkle of a plastic bag, and I don’t ask questions.
A few minutes later, he opens the door. “Coast is clear, I think.”
I emerge, shaking myself off. “Do I look…” Like a girl who just bounced on your dick in the parking lot?
“You look fabulous, as always. I’ll walk you inside. If Violet asks where you’ve been, I’ll make up a story. I’ll tell her that a giant squid attacked. Or pirates.”
“Good thinking,” I scoff.
We head inside, but Blake stops in the middle of the hallway before we can reach the main room. He fishes his phone out, studies it, then grumbles out a curse.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Nothing.” He shoves the phone back in his pocket.
“Okey-dokey.”
We take about five more steps, and then he halts again. “I need a favor,” he blurts out.
I turn around with a sigh. “I already had sex with you. Doesn’t that fulfill my favor quota for the night?”
He snorts. “If anyone was doing someone a favor out there, it was me. To your va-jay-jay.”
I roll my eyes. “Uh-huh, sure. Now tell me what you want, or I’m walking away.”
“I need a date.”
Exasperation shoots through me. Did he not hear a word I said in the Hummer? We’re not making this a habit! And we’re certainly not going on a date.
“Absolutely not,” I announce.
His green eyes narrow. “Wipe that horrified look off your face, J-Babe. A date with me is like a trip to Disneyland. You’d fucking love it. Because everyone loves Disneyland. Anyway, that’s not what I meant. It’s a fake date, okay?”
Well, now I’m confused. “A fake date?”
He nods glumly. “My ma just texted to remind me that my sister’s baby shower is this weekend. It’s a lunch thing. My family’ll be there, some friends…”
He pauses just long enough for my guard to rise. Friends, huh? I wonder which friend is responsible for the very uncharacteristic deer-in-the-headlights look on Blake’s face.
“You want me to go to a family event with you?” Hell no. “I, ah, I’m not sure I feel comfortable with that. I won’t know anyone there.”
“You’ll know me,” he protests, looking offended. “Besides, you owe me. I’m the one doing all the favors. The smokin’ sex—you’re welcome—and telling you how to bond with your roomie. I’ve done you two solids.” He shrugs. “It’s your turn.”
His logic is in no way sound, but I can’t deny that his idea to bring Violet to the bar had been a good one. Granted, I’ve ignored her for the past, oh, thirty minutes, but we seemed to be connecting before that.
“Please?” he presses. “It’ll really help me out if you came along. That way the fam might finally get off my case.”
“What are they on your case about?” I ask curiously.
“They think I need a wife.”
I squeak in alarm. “I am not going to pretend that we’re engaged!”
“Didn’t ask you to. I told you, it’s just a date. I’ll tell ’em you’re my girlfriend, they’ll be happy as clams and, in a few weeks, I’ll say you dumped me or something.” He mimics my earlier words. “It’s a one-time thing.”
Despite my reluctance, I find myself nodding. “Fine. I’ll do it.”
He brightens.
“But it’s not a real date,” I say hastily. “It’s just a favor for a friend, okay?”
Blake leans in and smacks a kiss on my cheek. “You’re the bestest friend ever, Jessie.” Then he sucks my earlobe between his lips and murmurs, “Plus, you’re fun to fuck.”
I shove him away. “You’re incorrigible.”
When we walk back into the bar, I find Violet swaying on a bar stool, her face enraptured as she listens to Will O’Connor boast about how many teams he’s played on.
“Violet?” I ask carefully. “Are you okay?”
“Yea-ah,” she hiccups. “I had a few beers.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’ll take her home,” Lemming pipes up from Violet’s other side.
“Sorry, stud,” I say firmly. “I don’t think tonight’s your night.” I hold out a hand to Violet, who looks a little green. “Come on, roomie. Time to go.”
“I’ll drive you guys home,” Blake offers.
It sounds much better than dragging my drunk roommate onto the subway, so I take him up on it.
What’s one more ride from Blake Riley tonight?
16 Mountain Out of a Molehole
Jess
It’s Sunday afternoon and we’re zipping along a nice suburban road in Blake’s Hummer. I could high-five myself for keeping my eyes straight ahead. I haven’t snuck any looks into the backseat, not even one. But I swear I got all hot and bothered the second this vehicle pulled up in front of the dorm. My body has a thing for Blake’s ride.