Page 53 of Boyfriend
Yes you are, Weston replies, and I blush at my phone. And I should really stay in and study for this test in statistics. But I’d rather walk you home again. He follows that up with a wink emoji.
Pinch me. This can’t be my real life.
I have a lot of studying to do too, I admit. And I’m working the next four nights.
Nooooooo, he types back. I have back-to-back games out of town this weekend. He follows that up with a pouting emoji. Is there any chance you’re free Sunday night?
I am totally free on Sunday night, I reply quickly.
Phew. Let’s have dinner together after I get back to town. I owe you from our bet.
I blink down at this lovely invitation and try not to dance around like a lunatic. I’d love to, I reply instead.
“What is that look on your face?”
I jump at the sound of Carly’s voice, and I shove my phone into my back pocket. “Just texting with, um, Weston.”
Carly lets out a shriek. “Omigod! I knew it! He’s in lovvvve with you!”
“Shhh!” I hiss. “You’re wrong. We’re just having…” I struggle for words, because this thing with Weston is as hard to explain as it is to believe. “A thing.”
“A thing…” Carly repeats slowly as she shoves a soda glass against the dispenser and fills it with Coke. “Like a relationship?” There are hearts in her eyes already.
“God no. A fling. A tryst. A convenient arrangement.”
“So you’re not ‘just friends’ anymore.”
“Yes we are,” I insist. We’re just friends who—” I don’t finish the sentence, because Kippy is somewhere nearby and I don’t want to be overheard.
“Oh my God, this is the most exciting thing I’ve heard in a long time. And speaking of long things…is his thing long?” She giggles.
“Stop it,” I hiss. “That’s an inappropriate question.”
She lets out a dreamy sigh. “Fine. But what about his stamina. I’ll bet an athlete like that can go all night.”
I snort. “There will be no details given out.”
“Whyyyy?” she whines. “It’s not like I’ll ever find out for myself. Weston is going to fall for that cute, sassy thing you’ve got going on. You just took him off the market. And they said it couldn’t be done.”
“It’s just temporary,” I insist. “This is just a physical thing until we both move on. I’ll be leaving Vermont before June, you know.”
“Still,” Carly says. “A girl could have a lot of terrific sex in four months. Come on! Just give me one detail.”
I bite my lip, gather up four ketchup bottles and carry them away. I will not gossip about Weston to Carly. Even though I am impressed. And I can say with certainty that hockey players do possess an awful lot of stamina.
“You have a dreamy look on your face,” Carly says with a snicker. “Are you seeing him again tonight?”
“No,” I say. “We’re going out to dinner on Sunday. So nobody had better ask me to work a shift.”
“If he’s taking you out, that sounds like a relationship!”
“We’re settling up a bet,” I insist. “Stop using that word, Carly. Weston doesn’t do relationships.”
“He hasn’t yet,” she argues. “You could be his first.”
“It’s never happening,” I tell the both of us. Because I’m not dumb enough to fall in love with him.
Thank goodness for that.
