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But even as I decide we’re done, I’m not sure I believe it.
My phone rings, pulling me out of my reverie. I flip over onto my stomach and reach for my device. I’m actually glad for the distraction. My thoughts were making decisions that I’m not ready to contend with yet.
“Hello?” I answer, probably sounding too excited.
“Is this Gina?” asks a man on the other end.
I can’t tell who it is, which makes me pause. “Yes. Who’s this?”
“Jeremy. The guy you’re dating.” He chuckles.
I, too, can’t help but laugh. This has to be a joke. “Yeah, right.” I sit up against my headboard to give this conversation my full attention.
“I hope I’m not calling too late. I just wanted to check to see if you’re free tomorrow night.”
He sounds so cheery, as I stifle a yawn. This guy moves fast.
“You really don’t waste time, do you?” I remark, half-amused, half-impressed.
His laughter comes through the phone, and it reminds me so much of Randy’s that I suddenly feel more awake.
“Not when the person who owes me is as pretty as you.” His flirting is obvious, but adorable.
I blurt out a laugh. “Cute.” I’m not entirely charmed, but I am nevertheless intrigued. Right now, the idea of using one of my precious two nights off for what I’m calling a “debt date” doesn’t thrill me. Yet part of me reasons that the sooner I start, the sooner it will all be behind me. “I work until five tomorrow. Can you pick me up at the Calypso then?” I find myself already wishing I would’ve just asked my parents for the money.
* * *
The Next Day
After Jeremy’s call, my mind kept considering ways I could become comfortable with accepting Randy’s proposal to pay for the car damage until I fell asleep. I can’t remember what I concluded; a deep sleep erased those thoughts. Yesterday was a tough Wednesday, but Thursday is a bit lighter. I only had my knife skills class in the morning, and my shift started at 11 a.m.
I arrived at the diner just in time, one minute before I was scheduled to start. Like clockwork, Randy was there, casually leaning on the counter, pretending he wasn’t keeping an eye out for my arrival. But as soon as I walked in, he quickly told Sarah, with a gentle touch on her shoulder, that she could take her break once I took over the register, which would be in about five minutes.
I rolled my eyes at his behavior. That is typical Randy, acting all distant and cool after we hook up. Honestly, it’s just so annoying, this aftermath of us giving into our yearning. I can barely stand it.
Despite feeling a bit embarrassed by what was churning in my thoughts, I couldn’t help but wonder if Sarah might be another one of Randy’s secret conquests. But that thought quickly went down in the flames of remorse and reproach. Sarah is totally smitten with her boyfriend, Dan. They’re one of those couples who just get each other, always finishing each other’s sentences. They’re inseparable, two peas in a pod, and not the type to cheat on their significant other. So, no, Sarah definitely isn’t involved with Randy.
Yet true to form, post our latest encounter, Randy has been keeping his distance all day. Part of me misses seeing him around, but it’s also a relief not to have him hovering, ready to pounce on any mistake I make.
Now the afternoon has faded away, my shift is over, and I’ve slipped into my date outfit: skinny jeans, a black scoop-neck T-shirt, a leather biker jacket, and booties with a modest heel. I’m aiming for a look that is both stylish and laid-back.
As for Jeremy, I’m not sure what to expect. Could I end up more physically and sexually attracted to him than Randy? I don’t know yet, but I’m open to finding out. After all, Randy hasn’t exactly been clear about what he wants from me beyond the obvious. Keeping my options open seems like the best plan for now.
“Looks like your date’s here.” Randy’s voice comes from behind me, catching me off guard. I hadn’t noticed him behind the counter, gripping it tightly as his gaze pierces the parking lot.
I quickly turn away from him. The last thing I need is a final vision of the way the late-afternoon light captures Randy’s insanely perfect face haunting me throughout dinner with Jeremy.
“And you look first date perfect,” Sarah says from behind the counter.
“I agree,” Rita chimes in. “Not a lot of skin but still very sexy. You nailed it.”
For some reason, I can feel Randy cringing at their compliments as I manage a weak “Thank you both” while continuing to scan the parking lot for the red Mercedes-Benz I damaged. “Where is he?” I mutter, checking my watch.
“He’s here,” Randy says, his voice cutting through my anxiety. “He’s in the black Maserati. His car is in the shop, getting fixed.”
I deliberately continue to avoid looking at Randy. But soon, the energy emanating from his body is wedged against my backside. He’s standing right behind me.
“See?” His deep voice slips against my ear. His extended arm huddles near my shoulder as he points at Jeremy’s car.
