Page 6 of Recklessly You
“I work from home. I’m in marketing.” His gaze bores into mine, and he frowns. “Is everything okay? Your beautiful eyes are glassy.”
“Oh, yeah, allergy season,” I lie. It’s your damn cologne, you idiot.Be nice, Sophie.“I’ll be right back—heading to the lady’s room.”
Once I’m in a stall, I dial Mila.
“Hello, how’s it going with Kermit?” Mila’s cheerful voice beams through the phone.
“I need help. I want to leave. This isn’t very pleasant. He smells like Grandpa and wears penny loafers. No muscle in his body. My nose stings, my throat burns.”
She’s giggling.
“Stop laughing,” I groan.
“I can’t help it. What’s he smell like?”
“Brut. It isn’t very pleasant, and he looks older than the photo he posted. He might be looking for a baby mama. I need to leave. What do I do?”
I keep clearing my throat. I sound like a cat coughing up a hairball. She laughs even harder—that little witch.
“All right. I’ll call you in five minutes. Make yourself panic, like it’s urgent.” She’s breathing heavily from her belly laugh. “What happened to my ballsy BFF? What happened to Ms. Straightforward, Ms. New Yorker, who doesn’t take shit from no one?”
“Well, biatch, she’s still in here. I just don’t want to be a complete bitch to the guy. Maybe he just likes cheap cologne.” I groan in frustration.
The old Sophie would not dare to do shit like this, period, like speed date, or hide in a bathroom. But here I am on a date and ready to bail.
“Arggh, just call me, will ya? Don’t take too long, or I’ll turn blue from holding my breath.”
“Fine. You’re so dramatic.”
I huff. “Am not.” I stick my tongue out at the phone, then end the call and return to the table. Even from a distance, I can tell he’s scooted my chair closer to his. Fuuuuuuuck.
Kirk beams as I take my too-close seat. “You’re beautiful. How about after dinner, we head back to my place?” He hums, the whiff of his cologne collapsing my lungs.
My phone rings just in time, and I answer it like it’s a miracle. “Hello, oh God, really? Okay. I’ll be right there,” I shout and try to look frantic by widening my eyes, then I hang up the line.
“Is everything okay?” Kirk says, worried—poor guy.
“My friend needs a ride to the hospital. Got to go.” I grab my purse. “I’m so sorry, Kirk.”
“No worries. Rain check?”
I muster a smile, shake my head, and run out the door. I make it back to my townhouse in record time, so damn relieved.
Then my phone pings. Eric. I read the message.
Eric:Please, baby, I’m sorry.
I’m so close to texting back and saying, “Fuck off,” but I don’t. I won’t give him the satisfaction of a response. He can’t think I give a damn about him. I’m not the ball-busting New Yorker I used to be.
* * *
I throwmy keys on the kitchen island, then shove a slice of pizza in my mouth. Mila and her boyfriend Dominic walk down the stairs. He kisses her cheek and whispers in her ear. She blushes. Makes my heart burst to see her happy. For years, she was a shell of herself. She loved him fiercely. I never understood why she couldn’t move on within those five years. I begged her. I wanted to see my best friend happy. She had endured so much pain and lost so much in her life. My family loves Mila and Dante. They became part of our own instantly. Now I understand the love they have for one another. She looks at him as if he’s her world, and he looks at her like she hung the moon. I’m in awe they found their way back to one another after Dominic’s mother lied and kept them apart for years.
I dated Eric for a long time. He was my first boyfriend and the first boy I gave myself to. I loved him, or so I thought. I still don’t know. The entire scene is still fresh in my head. I walked in on Eric in his apartment, fucking a friend I’d known since elementary school. Their groans and moans still echo in my head.
“Hey, you’re back.” Mila frowns.
I hadn’t realized I was staring at my pizza, reliving the awful memory. “Yup. Thanks, by the way. You saved my life.”
