Page 78 of Hot Mess Express
Shut up, Pete.
He stops at the door to the men’s restroom and peers over his shoulder, as if to check if I’m still there. Obviously I am. “Just go home,” he says to me. “I don’t need no babysitter. I’m a grown-ass man with … with a whole Friday night ahead of me that doesn’t include lookin’ at your stupid face.”
He pushes the restroom door open and disappears inside.
I pray this isn’t an invitation to follow him into a grimy public restroom so he can try more stuff out on me. But something must possess my feet, because I go straight in after him.
I find him at the sink, faucet at full blast, staring at me hard.
“Thought you said my face was pretty.” My words echo in the cramped restroom, muffled only by the water exploding from the sink. “Now you think it’s stupid?”
He says nothing back. He just stares, still scowling in that sexy way he was before.Goddamn him and those dopey, sensitive eyes…
“I just want to be clear,” I tell him calmly, swallowing my own desire. “Crystal clear, so there’s no misunderstanding. I’m not sure what’s going on in your head … or your heart or whatever, but … I don’t judge it either way. I’m sorry for … flipping out at the park bench the other night. I don’t even care if you used me for a kiss to confirm things you may or may not be feeling about me … or about guys in general. If you want me to leave—if you want me toreallyleave—just say so, and I’ll go. I’ll leave this restroom. I’ll … I’ll leave this club and go on back to Spruce with the guys. And I won’t bother you anymore. Just say the word.”
A moment passes. Processing my words. Staring back at me.
Hard.
Then he twists off the faucet and comes at me.
I back away. My heels hit the restroom door.
His face stops in front of mine, lips curled with agitation.
I wait for him to shove me out of the way and finally see himself out of this restroom and out of my life for good.
Instead, he reaches for the door—and locks it.
18
ANTHONY
Heart slamming against my chest.
Fingertips prickling with anticipation.
What am I doing?
“Uh … why’d you just … lock the door …?” he asks me.
I don’t have an answer. I just didn’t want him to leave, I think.
And I don’t want to leave, either.
“Anthony?”
I swallow hard. I can barely look into his eyes. “Can we … Can we just …”
“Yeah?”
“Can we start where we … where we left off the other night?”
“In here? Are you nuts? Everything’s covered in herpes.”
“Nah,” I tell his chest. “They’re actually … m-meticulous about hygiene. I think. They clean in here every hour, the staff.”
“How do you know that?”
