Vera:9pm College Bar
I frown as a cold spear shoots down my spine. On one level I’m glad she took me seriously.
On another, every fiber of my being is screaming hell no!
There’s no way I’m letting my goddam mate fuck some other dude. I push off my stool so fast it goes crashing to the floor, and the noise in the bar cuts as if someone lifted one of those old-fashioned arms on a record. “I ah… I have to go.”
It’s five o’clock. If I leave now, I could be in the city by nine if I break the speed limit and drive like a demon out of hell all the way.
“Hey, are you OK? Should I come?”
“No! No. I’m fine. I just. There’s somewhere I have to be.”
Riley shakes his head. “OK, man. Call me if you need backup. I’ve got you.”
Oh, he has no idea. I storm out of the bar and straight to my truck. I start the engine before I’ve even had time to consider what the hell I’m doing. I reverse so fast I almost crash into the car on the opposite side of the parking lot.
Fucked if I’m letting Vera hook up with some rando when I could be making her cum on my cock, on my face, my hands.
I’m sporting a semi just thinking about it and have to palm him down and concentrate on the road. Fuck waiting for her to realize. Fuck worrying that I’ll scare her or make her mad. It’s fate! I’ve got to go get my mate.
My hands turn to paws on the steering wheel, and I have to focus on breathing and imagine the moment when I’ve scared the living shit out of whatever human guy she thinks she’s going on a date with tonight and have her in my arms just to stop myself from doing a half-shift.
This is going to be the longest drive of my life.
FIFTEEN
Vera
Bas doesn’t answer my text. Not even a thumbs up or a heart or a be safe. Just nothing. I know he’s read it, so the fact he says nothing makes my belly flip flop and my skin go all clammy.
My hands are shaking as I put on my mascara and almost stab myself in the eye. I end up smearing black all across my cheek, then wiping everything off and starting again.
I don’t like this. I knew things would get weird between us. Now I’m all hollow inside and all the joy has gone out of my date, even though half an hour ago I was excited.
It’s another half hour before I crack.
Vera: hey, I promise the bar is completely safe. I go there all the time. You want me to send you a picture of his profile on the app just in case?
I almost delete it before I send, but I know something’s off. My chest feels all tight, and I can’t stop pacing.
He doesn’t even read this message, which drives me crazy.
I almost call Steve to cancel my date, but no. Fuck that. Bas doesn’t get to sulk and cock block me. That’s not how this works.
So I force myself to get ready. I go to extra lengths to dress nicely, choosing a tight-fitting black dress and boots with a heel that’s maybe a little unnecessary for the college bar, but fuck it. I need a way to feel good about tonight.
I look into the tiny mirror over the bathroom vanity and tell myself I’m going to have a good time despite him. I’m not going to check the time. I’m not going to think about Bas at all, and at the end of the night if I decide to go home with Steve, I will.
By eight thirty I have butterflies causing a riot in my stomach. I skip dinner—never a good idea when you plan on drinking, I know, but if I ate right now it would all come back up again.
I go to the bar a little early just for something to do. I figure sitting in a room full of people and soaking in the relaxed vibe might be good for my nerves. I check my phone every other minute, but there’s still nothing from Bas, and after a while, I switch it on Airplane mode and stuff it back into my purse to stop myself obsessing. He doesn’t get to ruin this for me.
Steve turns up early too, a fact that lifts him in my esteem until he opens his mouth. “Vera? Oh hey, you look different in person. Not bad, just different.”
I chart that one up to nerves and stand to kiss him on the cheek. He goes in for my lips, and we end up in this awkward halfway zone which I try to brush off, but it’s soured my mood already. Not a promising start.
“You’re early,” he says, once I’ve sat again. “You weren’t meeting someone else first, were you?”
