Another pause. Another message.
Because I think that might be already happening.
“You mean to tell me he’s coming here to pick you up and take you out? On an actual date?” Kelli curls her lip into an undeniable smirk. “Wow. Shep Prescott doesn’t date, you know. Ever.”
I roll my eyes, trying to tell my overactive stomach to calm down. It’s like there are a million little baby tap dancers inside of me, kicking the shit out of my guts and making me hopelessly, horribly nervous. “What do you mean?”
Of course, he dates. He’s known to go through girls, one after the other. He has a man-whore reputation. Pretty much every girl on campus wants to drop her panties for him or one of his equally gorgeous friends. It’s sort of irritating, how easily I fell under his spell. Because he definitely knows how to cast one. I was so incredibly irritated when I saw him in the shop. Irritated and intrigued.
My irritation quickly turned to pleasure. Awareness. So much damnable awareness and chemistry and whatever else you call it that brewed between us. I could feel it. Did he feel it? He had to. He’s the one who asked me to go out with him.
Though maybe he’s doing it because supposedly he won me in a bet and he thinks I’m easy prey. Or more like an easy lay.
Nope. Not going to fall for that. I will not end up naked with him tonight. No. No. No.
And now I can’t help but wonder what he looks like naked.
“He hooks up but doesn’t steadily date any of them. Sounds like you might be an exception.” Kelli sounds surprised.
Hmm. So am I. I shouldn’t read too much into what she’s saying. This is probably just a hookup. “He claims I owe him a date. All because of that stupid bet. I could kill Joel.”
“Right. Kill your now ex-boyfriend for getting you the opportunity to date Shep? That bet might be the best thing that ever happened to you.”
“Please.” I wave a hand. “I’m pissed that I have to go out with him. Trust me.”
A skeptical eyebrow is raised, one that tells me Kelli’s about to call me out on my shit. “Seriously? Do you really think I’m going to believe that?”
I’m trying my best to believe it, so I hope she does too. “I may as well get this over with.” I go to my tiny closet and start thumbing through the clothes, pushing through the hangers, one after another. I have nothing good to wear. Nothing pretty and new or flirty and sexy. Not that I want to flirt or look sexy.
You so do.
Okay, fine I do. I want to knock stupid sexy Shep on his ass when he takes one look at me but how? “I have nothing to wear,” I moan.
Kelli magically appears at my side, pushing me out of the way so she can have a go at the pitiful offerings in my closet. “Too bad you wore that cute shirt last night. I’d suggest you wear it again but it’s too soon.”
No way would I wear it. I’d felt too exposed last night in it. I remember the way Shep looked at me. His eyes hot, seeming to see everything, all of me and making me shivery…
“How about this?” Kelli interrupts my thoughts, holding out a cute little black dress I wore to a holiday party last Christmas.
I wrinkle my nose. “That’s way too much. I’m not going to prom.”
Kelli huffs out a breath. “But what if he’s taking you to some fancy dinner? He might, considering he’s filthy rich and can afford just about anything he wants. Did he tell you what you’re doing tonight? Where you’re going? And who goes out on a Sunday night anyway? Don’t you have class in the morning?” Kelli asks as she shoves the dress back into my closet.
“What are you, my mother? And no, he didn’t tell me where we’re going.” He didn’t tell me much of anything beyond saying that he might become obsessed with me.
Talk about crazy. Is that some sort of line he’s trying to use so he can get in my panties? Maybe, because come on. Shep Prescott obsessed with me?
Please.
I shouldn’t trust him. I shouldn’t believe anything he says, especially when he’s in flirt mode, which is all the time. But I can’t deny the little thrill that shot through me at his admission. The admission I still have on my phone, that I stare at every once in a while, when Kelli’s not looking.
Clearly I’ve lost my mind.
“Do you have his number?” When I nod she continues, a respective spark in her eye. “Nice. Text him. Ask him what the plan is.”
“But isn’t that kind of…rude?” I’m not big on dating protocol. My first serious boyfriend I had my senior year in high school, we started seeing each other within a giant group of friends. We always just hung out. And every time we all hung out, David and I naturally gravitated toward each other, until finally we mutually decided to become boyfriend and girlfriend. We broke up before we left for different colleges, deciding that a long distance relationship wouldn’t work.
I met Joel because we had a class together. We sat next to each other and we talked and flirted. We saw each other at parties. One thing led to another and then we were going out. Again, we tended to hang with a group. Or Kelli and Dane once those two got together.
Looked like that scenario was dead and gone. Thank God Joel and I had that class together last semester. If we had to see each other three times a week…talk about awkward.
“It’s not rude, especially when you’re in the dark about what to wear. Guys don’t get this.” She waves a hand at me. “Go. Text him. Ask him how you should dress for your date.”