Page 87 of Raise Hell

“We haven’t talked in over a year,” I reply, which also happens to be the truth. “Last I heard, she was hooking up with some carnie on the road in West Virginia.”

“Hmm.”

Drake’s phone vibrates on the table. He grabs it and sticks it in his pocket before I can see the number lighting up the screen.

His phone has been buzzing off and on this entire time. I felt it buzz against my thigh from its place in his back pocket during the drive. And I’ve heard the muffled ringtone more than once since then.

He hasn’t even glanced at the screen. “Doesn’t matter.”

I can only assume it’s a girl calling. He has enough sense not to talk to one girl while he’s on a date with another, but I have no illusions there is more to this than it seems.

Drake Van Koch doesn’t actually want me. He’s just trying to discover a weakness.

The waitress returns for our empty plates. She asks Drake if he wants anything else, with a special emphasis on the word dessert.

I’d feel bad for her if she didn’t immediately glare at me when he declines both the literal and implied offer. She flounces off to get the check. I wonder if Drake has been more receptive to her totally obvious flirting on previous visits to this place.

Although, what kind of girl flirts with a guy who is on a date with someone else?

Drake reaches for his wallet as he rises from the chair and then tosses a handful of twenties on the table. I can only make a rough estimate, but it looks like he left a significantly bigger tip than I would have.

Maybe he still wants there to be an option to screw our waitress behind the building when he comes around next time.

Outside, I pull the helmet on as we walk toward the Ducati. I’m suddenly in a hurry to get back to campus. “Can we hurry? I have a paper due tomorrow that I haven’t started yet.”

“Hold on.” He grabs my hand. His skin is warm against mine. “I’ve got something else to show you.”

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