Page 21 of Last First Date
“Or we could go out again?” Maybe he actually enjoys crappy places like Cielo. I don’t know why, but apparently some people do. Like Steve the Sleaze. Probably Hesse too.
His laugh is sharp. “No Darcy. We are most definitely not going out again.”
His words hit me like a splash of cold water in the face. Okay, I wasn’t expecting his outright rejection to hurt my feelings, but ouch.
It shouldn’t bother me that a playboy like Thom Abernathy doesn’t want to be seen out in public with me, but it reminds me all over again how I’m not quite good enough for everyone in my life. Apparently even him.
“Fine.” I’m tempted to hang up on him, but I really do need his help with this whole stupid mess I’m in. Even if he is being kind of an asshole right now.
“Fine,” he responds, so cool that even butter wouldn’t melt at the chill in his voice. “Come by whenever you’re done fixing your hair, princess.”
Ooh this man. He’s lucky he’s only on the phone with me or I’d punch him right in the dick for that one. He needs to learn to not talk shit about my hair. Not today or any other day.
“Just be sure to tell those dipshits at the station that I’m coming by so they can put some pants on. I don’t want to see Daniels’ naked ass ever again if I can help it.”
He hums, a low dark sound that does something molten to my insides. “Oh? Whose naked ass are you hoping to see, Darcy?” Then he chuckles. “Also, you definitely want to keep your eyes closed the next time you open up your locker.”
I groan and slap my hand over my eyes. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”
He waits too long, then gives me that same bland, chilly voice from before. “Obviously, I’m kidding. I mean, why would some big, stinky imbecile that we both work with choose to paper the inside of his lieutenant’s locker with photocopies of his bare ass? He would have to be really, really stupid to do something like that.”
My lips pinch up at the thought. “I’m going to murder Daniels and then use that picture of his ugly naked ass in the obituary.”
I can hear the smile in his next words. “No, don’t do that. The particular picture that is definitely not plastered all over your locker maybe shows his balls and everything.”
I choke. He’s got to be kidding. What kind of idiot would do something like that?
Wait, actually that’s totally something Daniels would do. He’s definitely a drive-by dick pic kind of guy.
“He’s been trying to show his balls to every woman in Valentine who isn’t married or dead, so I’d probably be doing him a favor getting those nasty little bits of his in the newspaper.”
He snorts. “No favor. Trust me. They look like two little shriveled up peas covered in hair.”
I can’t help but wince at the horrible picture his words are painting. Also, it turns out that I might never eat peas again.
He coughs but it might also be a laugh. “Not that I’ve been staring at Daniels’ balls or anything.”
At that last remark, I lose it. I’ve been mad at him for long enough now, and this particular line is too good to let go without me making a joke at his expense. “You can tell me Abernathy, does he at least hold you afterward?”
“Shut up, Darcy. You’re the only person who holds me right after you fuck me over.”
And there it is again. That sharp pang in my chest because he’s being just a little bit mean to me, and I really want us to be in it together. Like the team of the two of us against everyone else in the whole world. Unfortunately, it seems I’m the only one who feels that way.
He doesn’t want to be seen in public with me, and now he’s basically saying I’m fucking him over. Well, even I can take a hint. Eventually.
I sigh. It’s just a few dancing lessons. That means it doesn’t matter at all what Abernathy thinks about me. Or even if he doesn’t think about me.
Once our lessons are wrapped up, he can be done with me forever. I can take Hesse Kotner to the stupid fundraiser and my mother will be happy with me at last. Then it won’t matter even a little teeny tiny bit what Abernathy thinks about me. Perfect.
“Fuck you, Abernathy. Go put on some pants so I don’t have to see your shriveled up little peas either.” I hang up on him, but it’s ultimately unsatisfying. I’m still stinging a bit from the way he talked to me. Like I’m embarrassing him by being in his life.
I fix my hair before I leave too. Because I’m definitely going to look as good as possible when I go to the station.
And not because of Thomas Abernathy.
Thomas
She hung up on me.
