Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 72060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
“I don’t want anything to happen to our friendship,” is the first thing out of his mouth. So maybe it is bothering him more than I realized. I feel even more guilty jacking off to him now.
“Me neither,” I admit. “But it already feels different.”
“Let’s talk it out.”
I get comfortable against my pillow. “I just can’t believe that happened.”
“Because it was with me?”
“Partly, yeah.” I take a moment to gather my thoughts. “But also because, well, you seemed into it, but maybe it’s just because—”
“Yes, I was into it,” he says so matter-of-factly it makes my breath catch. “How could I not be? You’re adorable and hot, smart and creative, your love of books is stinkin’ cute, and—”
“Okay, now you’re laying it on too thick,” I cut him off, unable to process those compliments. “You could’ve had anyone last night.”
“But I only wanted to hang with my best friend and enjoy our second fake date. I know you won’t believe me, but so will others. There will be someone who comes along—”
“To take me on a fake date?”
He huffs out a laugh. “It might’ve been fake, but parts of it were very real.”
We’re silent for a beat because I can’t find any words right then.
My heart climbs into my throat as I say, “Thanks, Dex. For being you and an awesome best friend.”
“So we’re okay?” His tone is tentative.
“Absolutely.”
He breathes out in relief. “What do you have going on later?”
“After last night? Nothing, and I’m glad for it.” I hear him snicker. “How about you?”
“I took a shift,” he replies. “Taking you on dates is expensive.”
I nearly choke on my own saliva. “Are you serious? I didn’t know—”
He barks out a laugh. “I’m totally not serious, and if you say the word, I’ll do a third and a fourth date with you, as many as it takes, until it sinks in how amazing you are.”
My heart is thumping hard because even if the dates are fake, him saying that makes me feel all tingly inside.
Still, I’m not convinced it’s the right direction.
“Let me think on it?”
“Yeah, of course. Have a good night.”
I smile to myself as we end the call. I can imagine Dex in his black slacks, shirt, and tie, serving the wedding guests with his usual charm, then standing back to hear all the speeches he makes fun of later. Half the reason he thinks romance is cheesy is because of his job. The other half is that his mom has had one too many failed marriage proposals and relationships. It’s almost like he’s fighting against tradition and needs something to believe in again.
Maybe I need to up my game somehow and flip the tables on him.
21
DEX
Halfway through my Community Politics class, we form our groups. The assignment we’re working on counts toward midterm grades, so the mood is serious.
My cell pings with a text from Austin that makes my pulse throb in a different kind of way. I think I’m cool with a third date.
I’ve been stressing ever since our last conversation, wondering if we crossed a line and there’s no turning back. Things have seemed slightly strained, so his text makes me feel hopeful that we’re still on the same page.
Awesome, I quickly type as my stomach feels off-kilter. Let’s talk after my class.
I’m about to start an afternoon shift, but definitely discuss later.
“What’s with the goofy smile?” Craig asks as he pulls out his notes. I hadn’t realized I was smiling, which is strange. Austin always makes me feel good, but the idea that he’s thought about us fake dating again leaves me feeling buoyant for reasons I can’t readily unpack. Especially since I don’t even like dating.
“Nothing,” I reply and store away my cell.
I throw myself into the group project, which centers around assisting people in impoverished neighborhoods to vote more frequently. “It would help if there were more drop boxes.”
“Or automatic voter registration.”
Once we devise a policy plan and prep for the presentation, class is over, and I walk out with Craig.
I part ways with Craig so I can head toward Austin and the coffee cart. “See you back at the house.”
“Don’t forget about Pizza Trivia night.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
I like that Poli House has group activities centered around the residents becoming more connected, and tonight is no different. The last game night included a couple of the guys’ girlfriends, which was fine by me. That was fun too.
There’s a lull in customers as I approach the coffee cart, and Austin is staring down at his phone, obviously reading something. He’s so engrossed that he barely registers Brandon walking up with two other guys to place orders. As soon as they leave with their coffees, I make my way over.
“Bruh, are you okay?”
His head snaps up. “Yeah, sure. Why?”
“Because you didn’t even flinch when a cute guy was in front of you. And I’m not referring to me.”