Page 88 of Blindside Me
“Anyway, it’s probably nothing.” I try to brush it off. “He asked why I wasn’t an art major like he actually cared.”
Callie smirks. “Intellectual foreplay. No wonder you disappeared into a closet with him.”
I throw a napkin at her, eyes widening, but I’m smiling. “You know about that?”
“Everyone knows about that.”
Panic spikes in my chest. Please don’t let my uncle find out.
I shove the worry aside. “Anyway, when we’re together, he lets his guard down a little. And when we…”
I trail off, suddenly self-conscious. I don’t usually share details about hookups. They’re not worth sharing.
“When you…?” Callie prompts, eyebrows raised. “Did the vertical tango?”
My cheeks go nuclear. “When we were together, he was still so … present. Like every touch, every moment mattered. Not rushing to the finish line.”
“Damn,” Callie breathes. “That’s not a hookup, Jade. That’s a connection.”
I shake my head, pushing away the thought. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
“And now he’s texting you suggestive messages.” Callie grins triumphantly.
“Mmm.”
“Ohhh, I know that look.”
“There is no look.”
“Oh yes, there is. That man’s got you dick drunk.”
I snort. Like a real, coffee-coming-out-of-my-nose kind of snort. “Dick drunk?”
She grins, croissant crumbs on her lips. “It’s like Stockholm syndrome, but for dick. You get one taste and suddenly you’re doing crimes for it.”
“He definitely delivers.” And then some. The stretch. The fullness. I press my thighs together, heat rising through me. God, I am dick drunk.
She leans in, lowering her voice. “No judgment. Last guy I got hot and heavy with was a TA who never even learned my last name. If Drew Klaas is lighting you up, ride that wave.”
“Not sure it’s a wave. Maybe more like a tsunami.” My phone buzzes again, and I crush a smile before it gets out. “He’s relentless.”
“Show me.” She extends her hand, palm up, like a tiny, adorable mob boss.
Nope. No way. She’ll roast me for days.
I eye her. “I’m not showing you our texts.”
She grins. “Oh, so there are nudes?”
“There are no nudes. Yet.” My brain immediately screams shut up, but it’s too late. The words are out there, hanging over the table with the weight of a thousand overshares.
Callie’s jaw drops. “Jade! You sly dog.”
“Shut up. It’s nothing. We’re just … flirty.”
She gives me a slow clap. “This is serious. And he clearly is into you. I get it.”
“Callie! Jade! We thought that was you!” Amanda’s all sunshine as they slide into the booth.
