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“Do you want me to?”
She shook her head hard, blowing out a breath. “Lesson learned. No drinking to excess, especially not while wearing a dress.”
She waited, expecting him to say something about the dress again and bracing herself for it.
He didn’t say a word.
That somehow made her more nervous. Antonio was chatty. He normally spoke a mile a minute.
“Sorry about before. Not this!” She waved her hands at herself, remembering him lecturing her about victim blaming. She frowned at her boots, which still smelled a little like puke if she was honest.
“What are you sorry about?” Antonio asked quietly.
She cringed. “I used your last name. Called you Di Salvo.” Her shoulders hunched. “It was habit! I don’t think he recognized the name. Josh was pretty drunk. But that doesn’t excuse it.”
“Thanks for telling me,” he said.
He didn’t sound pissed. He didn’t look it either. He looked tired. His lips weren’t spread in that inane smile.
“Josh was kind of cute. I can see why you were into him.” Her fingers tapped on her legs. “He still likes you, you know. He’d totally get with you again.”
Antonio’s lips twitched. “Trying to play matchmaker?”
“No!” She actually kind of hated the idea of them together now that she was thinking about it. The thought of him with someone besides her made her feel twitchy, like punching something. She scowled, hating the idea that she was the jealous type, but that was what that meant, right?
“Why didn’t you call me?” Antonio asked.
“Why would I?” She bit her lip, trying to hold the truth within, but taking in where they were sitting softened her resolve. “I wanted to, okay? Happy now?”
He shook his head, still studying her. “I knew you wanted to. I was asking what held you back.”
“Such fucking confidence,” she muttered under her breath.
“Vespa.” The way he said her name held an expectation. Like she owed him something.
She reached back to squeeze her bun, remembering that she kind of did. “It felt… weird. Like I was being needy or something.”
“You went to the bar for a hookup, didn’t you?”
She blew out her breath. “Why else? It’s not like I like it there.”
“Then you were needy. You had sexual needs. That’s fine. Natural.”
“Fuck off.” She snuck a glance at him. Now he looked amused. “A phone call feels, I don’t know, intimate or something. Not like a booty call.”
He snickered.
“What? That’s what it would be!” She groaned. “Why did I like sleeping with a guy like you?”
“I liked sleeping with you too.” Antonio stood, reaching a hand down to her.
She let herself take it. He didn’t let go after helping her up but held on to her hand, grinning at her.
“Next time, text me. You can even abbreviate it for fewer letters.”
She rolled her eyes, but she didn’t hate the idea. Tap two letters, and she could have sex with him again.
At the thought, her stomach swirled. Not with nausea. This was a good swirl. One with heat.
