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I will not put myself in that position, I do not have that much faith in my vagina to believe it could change his mind. Of course, I would love for my vagina to cure everything, but come on.
“Never know,” he mumbles but I ignore him because I do know.
Cuba doesn't feel the same way and even if he did, he would never admit it, and he wouldn't do anything about it.
My phone vibrates in my hand, startling me. It’s Cuba. My fingers hover over the screen, my stomach dips, I sweep my thumb over the message icon.
My eyes narrow at the message. “What an asshole!” I screech, getting up onto my feet, waving my phone. “He said it’s been real. Are you kidding me?”
“That’s all he has to say?” Patrick crosses his arm. “The nerve.”
“Again.” Indi rolls her eyes and flicks the remote in my direction. ”This is Cuba. I’m not trying to be a bitch but it’s true. We all know he likes you, but he won’t do anything about it.”
I think about what she’s saying, and I become more annoyed, I have given him space, and tried to let him come to me. If he really doesn’t care then fine, neither do I. Yes, I know that’s a lie I tell myself but I’m not going to be running and chasing after him.
I don’t respond back to him. He said enough to kill our conversation, he left me no room to say anything decent back to that. Clenching my phone in my hand, I silently pout.
“I’m going to take a shower and call it a night,” I say through my teeth.
“Ah, come on, don’t let him get you upset,” Patrick's pleads. “Come out with us to dinner.”
I forgot about our dinner plans and frankly, I doubt I would be good company. “I’m not upset,” I lie. “I’ll take a rain check, have fun and please don’t fight.”
“Well then tell him to back off the guys I call dibs on,” Indi starts.
Patrick rolls his eyes. “Because you clearly can’t tell who is on your team and who is on my team.”
Slowly, I back away, and leave them to argue about India’s broken gaydar. Shutting door to my bedroom softly, a tear slips out and I quickly wipe it away. This is stupid, I am stupid. All my book smarts mean nothing right now if my common sense is lacking. Lesson learned, casual sex is not for me. I’m a relationship kind of girl.
Going into my bathroom, I start my bath, pouring half my bottle of lavender bubble bath into it, then I go to light my favorite lavender and vanilla candles, setting them on my dresser and bedside table. I love lavender, it relaxes me, and right now, I need to relax and not think about Cuba.
After hooking up my iPod on my nightstand, I undress as Lana Del Rey sings in the background. Stepping into the steaming water, I tie my hair up in a knot before sinking down to my chin. I close my eyes and take in the scent and soft music, breathing in and out, trying to relax my rapid heart.
It’s not working.
