Page 13 of Not That Into You

“Come to the Hamptons with me.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

My gaze glides over his handsome face as I swallow. “Because we can’t stand each other. We’d never convince anyone we’re a couple.”

His eyes gleam as the corner of his mouth lifts. I don’t like the look he’s giving me. It’s almost predatory.

He reaches out and fingers a lock of hair that’s come loose from my ponytail. He tucks the hair behind my ear and then strokes the side of my face before lightly tracing my bottom lip with his thumb, causing electric tingles to radiate out from his touch. My breath hitches as my pulse races.

He leans back with a satisfied smile. “I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”

What the hell? I mentally shake my head, chastising myself for not slapping his hand away. My brain knows he’s just putting the moves on me to make a point, but that doesn’t stop my body from humming.

Fuck this. I grab my bag and stand up. “The answer’s no.”

Chapter 5

Monica

I enter the bar and head across the crowded room to our usual table. It’s a Wednesday night tradition for Claire, Hayley, Anna, Gina, and me to meet at Blue Iris for a drink and catch up on each other’s lives.

Blue Iris is also where Cameron and I had our last altercation—this morning’s lunacy aside—and it’ll be a while before I forget the sneer on his face when he called me a dried-up, bitter bitch.

Reaching the table where Claire, Anna, and Gina are already sitting, I glance around, but there’s no sign of Hayley. I briefly wonder if she’s hiding after siccing Cameron on me earlier today. Or maybe she’s waiting to show up after I’ve had a drink, hoping alcohol will soothe my ire.

I sit across from Anna, who’s wearing a dark suit, her typical lawyer uniform. Even after a full day of work, she still looks sleek and unwrinkled. Her chin-length brown hair is smooth and straight, accenting her light skin and perfectly sculpted brows, one of which is raised as she regards me. “You look more frazzled than usual.”

I scowl at her. “Thanks.” Though she’s not wrong. “The subway was packed on the way here, and there was more than one fragrant person standing near me.”

Gina scrunches her nose in disgust, reminding me of a little girl who doesn’t want to eat her vegetables. She’s a CPA at a big accounting firm, and she struggles with being taken seriously, not only because she’s female and Latina, but because she’s petite and looks younger than she is. As a result, she dresses conservatively and keeps her dark brown hair pulled back in a neat bun.

I look at all three women. “What were you talking about? You all looked very serious when I walked up.”

Before they can answer, Alli walks up to our table. “Hello, ladies.”

Her platinum blonde hair is up in a messy bun, the dim lighting making her warm beige skin appear sallow. Judging by the tightness around her eyes, it’s been a long day.

I frown. “Is Celeste still on vacation?”

Celeste is Alli’s girlfriend and the co-owner of Blue Iris. Alli told us last week Celeste was out of town visiting family, and I imagine Alli has her hands full managing the bar on her own while Celeste’s been away.

“Yes, but she gets back tomorrow.” Alli raises her hands to shake invisible pom-poms. “I can’t wait.”

“I’ll bet.”

“What can I get you to drink?” she asks before glancing at the others. “And do any of you need another?”

After placing our orders, Alli returns to the bar, where several patrons visibly brighten at her reappearance.

Claire looks at me. “Do you know where Hayley is?”

“Nope.”

“There she is,” Gina says.

We all look toward the front of the bar, where Hayley is making her way through the crush of patrons, smiling at the people who move aside to let her pass.

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