Page 80 of The Jerk in Apartment 1B

“To new beginnings,” I say, clinking her glass. I sip the champagne. I’m not a big fan of champagne, but this one is pretty good.

“Oh, I got another one,” Trina says.

“Another toast?”

“Yeah.” She holds up her glass. “To the best fake date I’ve ever had.”

“Isn’t this theonlyfake date you’ve had?”

She laughs. “Okay, correction. To the best night I’ve ever had with a guy.” She clinks my glass and sips her champagne.

“I’m flattered, but that can’t be true. What about your ex?”

She shakes her head. “None of the times we went out were ever this good. I mean, this event alone puts it over the top.I can’t believe we’re here! I heard about this months ago, but never in a million years thought I’d be able to go.”

So it’s the event that made this night so great. It wasn’t about me. I should’ve known that, but for a moment, I thought she was going to say something else.

“Let’s go look around,” I say, noticing more people entering the gallery.

We’re there for over two hours. I could’ve been done in half that time, but Trina wanted to stop at every photo, reading the little plaques beside each one. I didn’t mind. I loved seeing her get so excited, especially after seeing her cry earlier today. It’s good I took her out. She needed something to take her mind off the breakup and this event definitely did the trick. She was smiling the whole time, like she’d forgotten all about her ex.

To me, that makes tonight a success.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Scott

On the taxi ride home, Trina looks like she’s about to fall asleep. She’s resting her head on my shoulder, her eyes closed.

“We’re here,” I say as the driver stops in front of the building.

“Okay,” Trina says, sounding groggy. She sits up and opens the door.

I follow her out of the car, taking her hand because I’ve been doing it all night and now it feels strange if I don’t. But this is it. The end of our fake date. After this, we go back to being neighbors. Landlord and tenant. Boss and employee.

“I’ll walk you to your door,” I say as we pass by my apartment.

“You’re not going to invite me over?”

I stop and look at her. “You want to come over?”

“It’s not that late, and I’m not ready to go home.”

This is a bad idea. If we go to my apartment, who knows what will happen? I’ve been a total gentleman all night. I held her hand, but that was it. I resisted the urge to kiss her, even though I’ve thought about it all night.

“Do you not want me to?” she asks, since I haven’t said anything. “Because I guess I could just try to go to sleep.”

“You can come over.”

We walk back to my apartment and go inside. I shouldn’t have agreed to this, but I couldn’t tell her no. She practically begged me to invite her over, which makes me wonder why. Is she just lonely, or is she here for a different reason?

“Can I get you something?” I ask, going to the kitchen.

“No, I’m good.” She joins me in the kitchen. “Do you cook?”

“Sometimes.” I take a water from the fridge. “Why do you ask?”

“I was wondering if I could use your stove sometime. I get tired of always eating microwaved meals.”

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