Page 59 of Exes and O's

Before the buzz branches to other places, I shake it off. “Satisfy me? How would you know what would satisfy me?”

He sighs toward the ceiling, as if I’ve asked him a trick question. “I have a lot of experience.”

I go up on my tiptoes, brutally failing to match his height. “Not with me.” I’m not entirely sure what I’m trying to accomplish with that statement, but his eyes blaze for the briefest of moments.

“Obviously. But that guy is wrong for you. Try someone else.”

I assess a hard-core duo near the bar. One wears a leather jacket while the other is in a literal denim vest, which accentuates his tattoos. Neither of them is remotely my type. But maybe that’s the point of tonight. Maybe I need to venture outside my comfort zone. “What about them?”

His expression screamsHave you lost your marbles?“They look like hit men.”

This is the status quo for the next twenty minutes. Trevor is a bottomless pit of contradictory critique.

He looks like a douchebag.

He’s wearing a velour tracksuit. Next.

Look at his shirt. Do you want to sleep with a man who pops his collar?

His head is weirdly shaped.

Way too short, even for you.

Definitely a murderer.

I groan when he rejects the last half-decent-looking guy in this joint. At this rate, finding a suitable hookup is about as likely as Seth suddenly turning into a good person. Or me giving up potato chips. “Look, I appreciate your help, but I think I should carry on alone. You’re killing my vibe here. Besides, let’s be real. I’m a dowdy, flat-chested nerd who still gets carded at the liquor store. Not some supermodel. Time is ticking. I can’t afford to be picky.”

He blinks, aggrieved. “I thought you said you were going to be picky because you have standards.”

“Yes, but your standards are impossible to meet.”

He tosses his hands in the air. “I’m not just gonna leave you here.”

“Yes, you are. This isn’t aDatelineepisode. You’re treating me like a child. I don’t need your help. Go back to that woman with the tattoos. Or better yet, give Kyla a call.” Truthfully, the pin prickles return at the thought of him bringing home someone else. But I can’t dwell on it. I have to push the green monster back inside. We aren’t going to be anything more than roommates, as he made very clear. This is Trevor Metcalfe, after all. Him hooking up with someone new is just a fact, as sure as the sun rising tomorrow.

His jaw is tense. “Okay. Fine. If you want me to leave, I’ll leave.”

“I want you to leave.” It’s the right call. If he stays, this entire night will be a wash, which is why I remain stone-faced when he lingers for a few moments before finally disappearing into the crowd.

His departure is like the chill of heavy clouds when you’re desperate for sun at the beach. I’ve never been in a club alone before without my friends. It feels... vulnerable. Before I start panicking, the youth-pastor guy at the bar catches my eyes, inviting me over with a simple smile.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he says with a slight Southern drawl as I advance. Innocent and neighborhood pastor–ish as he may look, he’s definitely not ugly. Semi-square jaw. Soft hazel eyes. Slender build. Plaid flannel shirt. “What are you drinking tonight?”

“Vodka cran, you?” I yell over the music.

He holds up his glass and clinks it against mine. “Me too. Are we the same person?”

“Let’s find out,” I say, bravely closing the distance between us.

•••

IT TAKES MITCHhalf an hour to ask if I want to “get out of here.”

I can barely suppress my delight at the prospect of getting straight to business, especially after listening to him drone on about his master’s degree in economics.

In the yellow hallway light of the apartment, Mitch isn’t as angelic as I’d originally thought. In fact, he’s not my type at all. I try to remind myself it doesn’t matter, so long as he’s going to rock my world. However, I begin to doubt his ability to do so when he drunkenly leans all his weight on me as I unlock the door.

Even though Trevor left the stove light on in the kitchen, I still manage to stub my toe on the overnight bag he forced me to leavebehind. Mitch attempts to steady me but ends up nearly toppling over himself.

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