Page 43 of The Summer I Destroyed You

I’m picturing it before I can stop myself—my back against the bathroom door, him pushing my skirt up, pulling one of my thighs around his hip. My eyes flutter closed for half a second, and I squeeze my legs together.

“There are probably some girls you could still fuck in the bathroom,” I tell him, the words a soft purr. “Save the tedious real dates for your future wife.”

He bites his lip.

He’s considering it. And I’m suddenly so unbelievably ready for him to agree. For him to ask me which girl I’d be, for me to say meet me in the bathroom and we’ll see.

He shakes his head. “Fucking someone in the bathroom is like getting a bunch of small snacks. You’re never quite hungry enough for a meal afterward but never quite satisfied either.”

I promise you’d be satisfied.

I barely keep the words in, but I’ve thrown myself at him enough.

He insists on paying the bill again. He’s just handed his credit card to the waitress when my phone rings.

“Donovan again?” he asks, scowling.

I shake my head. “Orthopedist.”

I bark an annoyed hello into the phone. I’m not sure why the hell the office is calling me anyway, unless my mother has made more allegations of abuse.

“Emerson? It’s Dr. Sossaman.”

My irritation that he’s once again using my first name but not his own is like a sharp poke. “Hi, Harold,” I say pointedly. “You’ve called my cell. Were you looking for my mother?”

His laughter is nervous. Embarrassed. “No, actually, I was calling to speak to you. There’s an art exhibit in San Jose this weekend. I was wondering if you’d like to attend.”

“With you?” I ask gracelessly.

He laughs. “Yes, that’s generally how it works when someone asks you out.”

My eyes widen. “Sorry,” I say after a moment. “I just couldn’t make the transition fast enough from you being the doctor who thinks I’m abusing my mother to…this.”

“I never thought you were abusing her,” he says. “But anyway, back to the exhibit—what do you think?”

Under normal circumstances, Harold wouldn’t be my type. He looks like the kind of guy who has very soft hands and calls sex lovemaking. But the fact that this will piss my mother off makes him a lot hotter than he’d be otherwise. I give Liam one last glance, wishing he was actually an option instead.

“Sure, that sounds great.”

When I hang up, Liam is studying me. “You’re on a first-name basis with your mom’s doctor?”

My tongue pokes my cheek. I’m smiling ear to ear. “I am now. He just asked me out. My mother is going to hate it.”

His face remains blank. “Are you going out with him because you like him or because it’ll piss your mom off?”

“It’s kind of hard for me to tease all those emotions apart,” I reply. “The second piece is definitely a major factor, but he’s not a bad guy.”

A vein I’ve never noticed before starts to throb in his temple. “And how far are you planning to take this date to get back at your mom?”

“Well, I’ll have to marry him obviously. That would bother her the most.”

His smile is slight. “I’m going to assume that was a joke.”

“Yes, that was a joke. Marriage isn’t for me. But I haven’t had sex in weeks, so that’s a possibility.”

His pen sinks right through the receipt he’s signing. “Seriously?”

I shrug. I definitely won’t fuck him if he mentions lovemaking, that’s for sure, but I’m not ruling anything out at the moment. “I mean, it’s not like you’re planning to put out. You’ve made that pretty clear.”

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