“Won’t you have plans?”
“With who?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugs.
“Video game sessions with the boys? Yeah, that’s about all I’ve got going on this week,” I say, chuckling.
“No dates with random girls?” She says this to her lap, as if she’s afraid to look at me.
I’m quiet for a moment, letting her words sink in. My mind immediately goes to the kiss we shared. When I was a drunk dick and said shitty things.
It was a good kiss.
Fuck that, it was a great kiss. But I shoved her away because she scares the hell out of me. She makes me want more.
So much more than I deserve.
“Like your date with a random dude?” I throw back at her. I’m suddenly feeling hostile about her date with that guy.
“Carson isn’t random,” she says, defensively.
“Random enough. You don’t know him that well.”
“We had a coffee date over the weekend,” she says.
“Oh really?” A foreign emotion rises up inside of me, settling in my throat. Threatening to choke me.
“Yes, we talked a lot. He’s nice,” she says.
“Is that when he asked you to out?”
“No, he asked me at the party Friday night,” she admits.
Carson moves fast, the asshole.
“What do you even know about that guy?” I clear my throat, hating how irritated I sound.
“He’s perfectly polite.”
Perfectly boring if you ask me, but what do I know?
“And I want to get to know him better,” she adds.
I frown. I’m frowning so hard, I can feel my forehead wrinkle. “You’re actually interested in that guy?”
“Why else would I agree to go on a date with him?” She glances over at me.
“I don’t know. Because you felt sorry for him?”
She laughs. “Um, no. Why would I feel sorry for him? I do actually like him. He’s sweet and funny.”
“Uh huh.”
Whatever. He sounds dull as shit to me, but I’m not the one who has to date him so…
“You’re not dating anyone right now?” she asks.
I actually scoff. “When do I ever date anyone?”