Page 12 of Last First Date
I waggle my eyebrows at her. “Who’s acting, sweetheart?”
She snorts at that line. Good. I like making her laugh. I’m almost positive she doesn’t laugh often enough.
“Seriously though, I don’t get it. I mean, come on. You’re hot. Just go up to Mister Fancy and ask him to go to a wine tasting or whatever.” My shoulders hunch up. “It’s not that difficult, Darcy.”
Her mouth tightens. “But it is, Thom. You don’t understand. I’m not good with people like him. I’m only good at being a firefighter and that’s about it.”
I shrug, feigning nonchalance. “Iampeople like him, Darcy. And you’re good at me.”
She shakes her head at me. “But can’t you see? I don’t even know what people like you talk about.”
“Hedge funds. Stock portfolios. This year’s hottest tax deductions.” I quirk an eyebrow at her, daring her to contradict me.
“Really?” Her forehead furrows up. “That’s so boring.” She shivers a little. “I mean it. It’s terrible. No wonder I’ve never bothered with you big money types.”
I can’t keep a straight face any longer and burst out laughing. “No. It’s more like which celebrities we think give the best head. Preferred brands of alcohol. Maybe something about fancy cars we like.”
She makes a humming noise and nods her head. “Typical guy stuff. Got it.” But her face drops again, stretching into lines of worry. “Come on, Abernathy. Please. Can’t you help me with this?”
Well, shit. It looks like she’s serious about this crazy idea. “He’s not the right guy for you, Darcy. You know that, don’t you?”
She shrugs her shoulders a little. “Doesn’t matter. If it finally makes my mother happy, it’s worth it to me.”
And that’s it, in a nutshell. She’ll never be interested in a man like me because I’m not the take-him-home-to-mama type. Not when I was poor, and not when I was a high roller. I’m the man who’s only good enough for a good time, nothing more than that.
“So what? You want me to take you out and show you a good time?” I stare at her intently, trying to read her answer on her face before she says anything.
“I promise, we don’t have to tell anyone.” I don’t mean to let them, but her words hit me right in the gut, damn it.
I don’t want her opinion of me to matter that much, but it does. Because this means I’m not even the good time guy for her. I’m only good enough to be her dirty secret.
“Fine,” I say, but the word hurts a bit coming out. Okay, it hurts me a lot, like a knife sticking in my throat even as I say it.
Then she flashes me a megawatt smile and it all sucks just that much more. “Really? You’ll really give me all the advice I need to get a date with Hesse?”
She goes in for a hug then, crushing her perfect tits right up against my chest. I swallow the noise that threatens to escape my throat because she’s killing me right now.
“Yes, really. I’ll do this for you, Darcy.” No matter how much it absolutely guts me.
Darcy
This is by far the stupidest idea I’ve ever had.
“I’ve never even been to Cielo. Why don’t we just go to Riddles?” I probably sound like I’m whining.
Well, that’s only because Iamwhining. I don’t want to go to some stupid martini bar with a stupid Italian name with stupid Thomas Abernathy.
Everybody I know goes to Riddles when they want to drink. It’s definitely a no frills kind of place—beer, a jukebox, and the meanest bartender in Indiana. Maybe the Midwest.
But we all kind of love K.T. in spite of her attitude. Maybe even because of it. She’s the type of friend who I would definitely call if I needed some help hiding a body.
Anyway, nobody I know goes to Cielo. It’s one of those fancy places at the edge of town that only serves small plates of fancy things I can’t even pronounce instead of actual food.
It’s definitely not a blue-collar type crowd there. They probably don’t even serve beer. Or have a single fried anything on the menu.
“Darcy.” Thom’s phone voice is sweet and dark, like a rich chocolate. No wonder he’s always fending off the upper crust women of the county. You know, with his penis.
And now I’m thinking about Abernathy’s penis. Again.
