Page 36 of Studious
“Don’t be. You’re not the first person who’s had one too many at the office. Especially if you’re not used to it, it can be easy to overindulge.”
“I’m never drinking alcohol again.”
“Maybe just go easy on the amount.”
I nod. “Deal.”
“How’d it go with Danny?”
“Fine.” It was more than fine, but I don’t want to let anyone else know that.
“I heard he took you to his house. What’s it like? We all want to know. He’s the most infamous player, but he never takes anyone to his place.”
“It’s nice. I don’t think he’s there too much, though, because he doesn’t have art on the walls. He has good furniture, though.”
Shelby makes a “Go on” gesture. “Dish. I want to know all about the love lair.”
I shrug. “There’s nothing to tell. He slept on the couch. I’d drunk too much—which you know already—and woke up with cotton in my mouth. He cooked me breakfast and then drove me home. He has a friendly cat.”
He eyes me suspiciously. “Hmm. That sounds innocent enough.”
“It was innocent!” I don’t sound innocent at all, even though it’s true. Nothing happened, because why would it? I’m not who Danny wants.
Except I asked him for sex lessons. Should I tell Shelby about that?
I look at him, this pretty guy with his platinum hair and big eyes. Maybe when I’ve known him a little longer.
* * *
My cell phone flashes on my desk, and I get a special thrill when I see that I have a message from Danny.
Danny: Your first homework assignment is to tell me what you’re looking for in a man.
I frown. What does he mean, what I’m looking for? I want a man who isn’t straight or in a relationship. Beyond that, I’m not in a position to be choosy. But I suspect if I text him that, I’ll fail, because it’s the wrong answer. And if I think about it logically, it’s not true. I’m not settling for someone whose beliefs are diametrically opposed to mine or who was shitty to my mom or who I could tell would be abusive—to whatever extent you can see that beforehand.
I’ve never really thought about what I want. I’ve just focused on the fact that I don’t havesomething. I’m not exactly sure what that something—or someone—is.
Alden: I don’t know.
Danny: Think about it. You have 24 hours to tell me.
Alden: Sheesh. Bossy.
Danny: That I am.
Alden: Okay. Does the 24 hours start now?
Danny: It does.
Alden: I’ll do it when I get home from work.
Danny: That’s why we’re calling it homework.
* * *
That evening, after a quick meal with my mom, I sit down at my desk, fire up my laptop, and open a new document. What am I looking for in a man?
I start typing. I want him to not make fun of me. I can see Danny rolling his eyes when he reads that. It should be a given, right?
