Now I need to go grab the groceries for our dinner.
“Do you need a ride to Tag’s?” he asks. “I have a driver for the night. The car will be here in about twenty minutes. I just need time to change.”
Tag’s? Do I need a ride?
“We can pick up your date on the way to pick up mine if you want.”
The air in my big fantasy balloon is violently deflated as the crushing weight of reality hits me. “Date?” I ask in a hoarse voice that forces me to clear my throat.
“Yeah. Tag set me up this time. He swears it’s better than Ash’s choices. He said she got you a date, too.”
I’m so stupid. I was just in his room planning this night all wrong. I can’t believe I
really thought I had a chance with him.
“Um. No thanks. I’m good. I should go, though,” I say while turning away.
“That’s cool. Let me know if you change your mind,” he says dismissively.
He turns his back on me and starts unloading his pockets, so I take that as my cue to leave. I don’t even bother saying bye.
With quick, angry strides, I reach my house in no time and the door slams behind me. Maggie comes running out of her room, clutching her chest as though I just scared the hell out of her. But one quick look at my face, and her fear is replaced by worry.
“What happened?”
I roll my eyes while heading to my room, barely holding back a scream. “He has a date tonight.”
“What?” she asks in as much disbelief as I am in.
At least I’m not the only idiot under this roof. Maybe there’s too much iron in the water and it’s making us delusional.
“Yep. Oh, and he wanted to know if my date and I wanted to ride with them.”
I turn to see the pure shock on her face, and she drops to my sad, pathetic bed. I’m paying him for my damn car. Definitely paying him.
“I so did not see that coming. And what date do you have? I thought he was your date for the night.”
So did I.
“Ash offered to set me up with someone at their party tonight. I told her no. He told Tag yes when he offered to set him up. I can’t believe I was such an idiot.”
I shouldn’t cry. It’d be pathetic, and dramatic, and... embarrassing to cry over a guy that I was merely friends with. Fortunately, no tears come out, though I’m really not surprised. I stopped crying when I was a kid.
Rye can kiss my ass. I’m done being his friend.
“Call Ash and tell her to make the date happen,” Maggie says, bringing me back to the hell I’m in.
I look at her like she’s lost her mind, and then I drop to the bed beside her.
“I don’t want to go over there. I don’t want a date. And I sure as hell don’t want to see him on a date. I didn’t want to like him. In fact, I wanted to hate him. But he’s so frigging sweet, funny, smart, and comfortable. I slept like a rock last night, and I honestly thought I’d sleep even harder tonight—if you know what I mean.”
She snickers quietly while reaching over and grabbing my phone. “Set the date up. If you don’t, it’ll make you look bad. You’re too amazing to look like you’re pining over him. Go have fun. Or at least look like you’re having fun. Otherwise he’ll ask questions you don’t want to answer.”
Why did I ever let myself go to this place? I would be fine right now had I kept my mind in the friend-zone.
Maggie is right. I’ll look pathetic if I stay here after that. I guess I’ll have to text Ash.
***