Page 89 of Hot Mess
It was always there.
Even when I told myself I didn’t want it.
I had some vague idea of myself with a woman, a man, maybe both. This fucking amazing relationship that was the beating heart of my life.
But I’d never had that, either.
“That’s about it,” I said.
The waiter dropped off our Brussels sprouts, and I served some onto her plate. “Thank you,” she said, and she waited for me to scoop some onto my plate, too. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d hung out with someone who was so damn polite all the time.
And not fake polite. More like classy and courteous.
“They’re sautéed in this incredible balsamic glaze thing,” I told her. “Way more delicious than you expect.”
“I’m sure.” She took a tentative taste just as I did, and her eyes went all round. “Holy shit. That’s delicious.”
“I know.”
We both dug in, and not gonna lie, I liked a girl who’d eat in front of me like she did. Like she was genuinely enjoying the food and not overly worried about how she looked while she enjoyed it, or what it was gonna do to her body after she ate it.
She lookedhotenjoying it.
She licked some oil off her lip and caught me watching her.
“Um… tell me about Dirty?” she said. “I read that their drummer, Dylan Cope, is your best friend. Is that true?”
“You’ve been reading up on me?” I arched an eyebrow at her.
“Not anymore. But I did,” she admitted. “Is that gross?”
“Maybe, if you weren’t honest about it. But I appreciate your honesty. Most people wouldn’t be honest about that.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Huh.” She set down her fork, then pulled out her phone. She swiped the screen a couple times and passed it to me.
A Facebook profile.Herprofile. There was a photo of her in a little dress, standing on a beach.
“That’s my Facebook profile. You’re welcome to dig through. I’ve got an Instagram account, too. If you dig deep in there, I’m pretty sure there’s some drunken pictures of me at some parties and stuff. I don’t post much anymore, but I used to. I use Insta more these days. Have at it.”
I looked at her. “Are there gonna be pictures of you with dudes in here?”
“Um. Maybe…?”
I handed the phone back to her. “I’m good. But I appreciate the offer.”
She took the phone back and tucked it away, seemingly puzzled that I didn’t take her up on the offer. But I really didn’t need to see her wrapped around some dude. “It only seems fair,” she said.
“Do you have a best friend?”
“Yes. Her name is Taylor. She’s fabulous.”
“Yeah? And what would she say about you?”
“To you?” she said, giving me the first bite of attitude I’d gotten from her today. “She’d say I’m fabulous.”
