Page 28 of Salvatore

“On the really hot date with the really hot guy, so I can bask in all the hotness? Hmm, I think I’m better off with Dr. Who, a bowl of popcorn, and the box of wine taking up space in my fridge. But don’t worry, I also have Pop Tarts.”

I wish she was joking, but back in college, Autumn and I frequently drowned our lonely Saturday nights with the cherry-flavored ones.

“I really am sorry,” I tell her.

“It’s okay, Aedry. But I miss you. Call me soon, okay? Oh, and take a picture for me.”

“Take a picture of what?”

“The hot guy.”

I gasp. “What? I can’t do that!”

“Why not? If he’s that good-looking, you need to prove it. Living vicariously through you is almost as good as placing fourth in the Hermione Granger lookalike contest at Harry Potter World last year.” She makes a face. “Granted there were five of us and third place went to a dude, but it’s still cool, anyway.”

“Of course, it is,” I tell her.

“So, you’ll do it?”

“Do what?”

“Take a picture of your yummy date?” she clarifies.

“No!”

“Why? If you’re dumping me and the Doctor, I want proof, damn it!”

I’m about to tell her she’s out of her mind when a hard knock rattles my door. My face warms and we both still. “I think that’s your proof at the door,” I whisper.

“Do you want me to leave through the window?” she offers.

“And die? No.”

“He better be hot,” she says, not so quietly, as I walk to the door.

I bat my hand to silence her. My navy sleeveless dress is casual, yet fits me in a way that boosts what remains of my confidence. I’m a nervous wreck, and more than a little scared.

“Who is it?” I ask, just to be certain.

“Salvatore,” he rumbles.

I open the door, smiling. A black leather jacket hangs over his black silk shirt and dark slacks cover his muscular legs.

I try to be subtle and not drool, or gawk, or straddle. I think I’m doing well until his stare drags the length of my form, heating my body to nuclear meltdown digits.

“Hey,” he says, leaning forward. I’m sure he’s going to kiss me until his attention cuts behind me.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m being rude. This is my best friend, Autumn. We were roommates in undergrad together.”

Autumn remains standing where I left her, barely moving and not really breathing. Unlike me, she’s not going for subtle. Not even a little bit. In fact, if “subtle” was a college major, she’d be kicked out of the program and asked never to return.

Her jaw unhinges to the floor as Salvatore follows me in.

A blush creeps up my neck. “Autumn, I’d like to introduce you to Salvatore.”

“Good to meet you,” he says. Based on her response, I don’t think he means it.

“Pleasure,” she spits out, smacking my upper arm awkwardly. “Well, have fun.”

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