Page 34 of Against the Clock

“You know, if you weren’t such a good friend, I don’t think I’d like you,” I grouch at her.

“That’s fine. I don’t have the desire to be universally liked,” she says. A flicker of something like annoyance passes through her eyes before she’s grinning at me again.

The waitress reappears, topping off the mimosas.

I don’t touch mine again, feeling half-drunk emotionally and physically.

Not a one-night stand? I feel like an idiot. Maybe he did mean it.

“He hasn’t texted me,” I say. “If he really was into me, wouldn’t he have texted me?”

“How old is he? Forty-five?”

“Thirty-nine,” I say. My cheeks immediately heat. Stupid alcohol. I take another sip.

“For someone who doesn’t follow football, you sure know a lot about this quarterback. For someone who says it was a one-night stand, you sure were quick with that.”

“Ugh,” I say, pressing the cool mimosa against my steaming cheeks.

“I mean, maybe he does the three-day rule. That’s an old-school thing. So you guys are what, fourteen years apart? I could see it working.”

“Stop,” I tell her.

“I mean it.” She shrugs, then takes another bite, chewing thoughtfully.

My waffle stares up at me forlornly, begging me to eat some more, but I move on to the bacon. The waffle’s too sweet for how I’m feeling. Salty sounds right.

Maybe some bitter black coffee, too.

“Three-day rule? Like three days to text, right?”

My phone vibrates in my purse next to me and I take it out, expecting it to be my dad.

I freeze.

I take the mimosa and drain it.

“Is it him?” Cameron scream whispers, reaching for the phone. “It’s him, isn’t it? Oh shit, he is into you. I fucking knew it. I knew it from the way he was holding your face in that viral TikTok.”

“Viral?” I yelp.

Half the restaurant goes quiet, their attention firmly on me.

“You didn’t tell me it went viral,” I hiss.

“Oh yeah, well, I didn’t think you needed to hear all the details.”

The phone vibrates in my palm again, and my heart beats a mile a minute.

“Answer it,” Cameron urges. “You said the sex was good, right? Who cares about long-term. If the sex is good and he’s nice, then see where it goes.”

I glance at the mimosa, but the damn bottomless thing has bottomed out. It’s empty.

“I don’t want to be rude to you,” I tell her.

“If you don’t answer it, I will, in fact, be upset,” Cameron promises. “It would be rude of you to not answer.”

Fine.

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