Page 31 of Nerdy Dirty Valentine

When I returned, Caleb and James were huddled together. They were chatting about some book, a fantasy of some sort, and James was leaning in as Caleb talked, his gaze directly on him, nodding at Caleb’s thoughts with interest.

“That’s so true,” I heard him say in that serious professor voice.

God, that could bring me to my knees.

And the way he looked at Caleb, no pity, no flinching away from Caleb’s scarred face like some people did. I hadn’t even told James about it, but he clearly didn’t need me to. His eyes never left Caleb’s as he talked.

“Fuck,” I mumbled under my breath. My heart shouldn’t be tugging at me, not when this night was about seeing all our “lessons” through.

“Hey,” I greeted them. They hadn’t noticed my approach, and they both jumped a little.

“Hey, man.” Caleb ventured a smile.

James didn’t say anything, but his gaze pivoted from Caleb to me, and his mouth parted with surprise. Hell yeah, he liked my outfit, all right. My blood began to pump, anticipating our night.

“Heard you’re going dancing,” Caleb said.

“Yeah, wanna join?”

He shook his head. “Got the night shift. But you two have fun. You’ll have to beat the guys away from James.” He smiled.

My smile thinned at the casual comment. I loved Caleb, I did. But at that moment, I could fucking kick his ass.

James only laughed at the comment, looking a little embarrassed. But for me, it was a direct hit. I took a deep breath. That was the purpose of tonight, wasn’t it? For James to go outthere and all. It wasn’t a date, or the prom, or anything I might secretly long for. A shadow fell across my heart.

“Nice talking with ya, James.”

“You too.”

Caleb shook his hand. As he faced me, he raised his eyebrows in question, which I ignored.

Things were somehow spiraling out of my control. It was crazy because this night was what we’d been working toward. Yet a part of me wanted to cancel the dancing and take James home.

“Ready to go?” I swallowed hard, determined to see it through. This wasn’t for me. I couldn’t ruin it, couldn’t abandon all we’d practiced, even if I wanted to snarl and curse and drag James caveman-style to my bed.

I wasn’t going to a club; I was going to hell.

James was saying something about how nice Caleb was, but I could barely hear him. I felt a surge of emotion, like I was about to punish myself, a habit I’d tried hard to stop along with drinking.

But James had worked his ass off to dance. I shouldn’t cancel. He needed to do this—to see it through—and so did I.

The club was crowded due to the throwback theme. Seventies disco blared out of the DJ booth, and guys were shaking their “groove thing” already. A nearby poster advertised Valentine’s Day, which made me only too aware that February was coming in another day, and time was slipping like water from my hands. My mood was low as we walked into the main dance area, but I tried to focus on James.

“By the way, you look hot,” I remembered to tell him.

Color heated his cheeks, and he only shook off the compliment.

I stared at the skin of his neck and collarbone. Nights like this I fucking missed drinking. But then I’d be too wasted to see how James looked with the light playing over his hair, face, clothes.And I wouldn’t want to miss any of that. Or miss the feel of our arms brushing as we walked side by side.

“Looks like a decent crowd,” James said, wringing his hands together.

“Yeah, lots of cute guys for you.”

“Or for you?” James’ mouth formed a grim line.

“Naw, I’m here as your wingman.”

None of them interested me. I was here because of James, for James.

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