Page 33 of Fall Into You
“You really do look beautiful, Liza,” I say as I look down into her eyes, willing her to understand how much she means to me, even if it’s only been two weeks and change.
“Should we head out?” I ask.
She looks hesitant, like she wants to stay. I can see the lascivious gleam in her eyes, the playful, mischievous smile tugging at her lips. I laugh and push her away completely by the shoulders. “No way, champ. I know that look.” It’s the same one she had last week, up until she pushed me off her and started crying—a memory that unfortunately keeps replaying in my head several times a day. “We said we were going on a date, and we’re going on a date.” I grab her by the hand and drag her to the door, grabbing her coat on the way out.
“IAM SO,SOSORRY,MATT,”she says as we walk through her friend Barbara’s front door. “I didn’t know it was going to be quite like this.”
“Wow, yeah, this is…” I look around the apartment, speechless. It’s like stepping into a time machine back to my freshman year in college. I don’t know how her friend can afford to pay for an apartment this big in Manhattan as an actress, but she has enough room to be able to squeeze intwobeer pong tables, an area for flip-cup, a keg, a full bar, and a table with snacks and desserts. Definitely looks and feels like a college party—the only difference being that it doesn’t look like she’s strapped for cash. Girl makesbank.
“What TV show did you say your friend was in again?” I ask.
“She was the older sister on a kid show for, like, four years,” she says. “We went to school together until she had to drop out when she got that gig. After the show, she stopped acting and now just keeps cashing in her residuals, working only occasionally. Her residual checks are…large.”
“I can see that.” I nod, taking it all in.
“We can leave if you want,” she says a little glumly.
I panic. I need to kick my ass into gear and not be a party pooper. This isn’t my style anymore, but I don’t want her to think I’m boring or a grouch. I remember the rules for beer pong, I can play a round of kings, and I can probably still kick ass at flip-cup. I’m sure my alcohol tolerance is much lower than when I was eighteen, but I can keep it to one game or two.
“No, let’s stay. Plus, I want to meet your friend.” I give her an encouraging smile.
“Yes, you’re gonna love her! Barbara isthe best. And we don’t even have to stay the whole night. We can stay for, like, half an hour or an hour and then go back to my place.” She smiles eagerly at me, and I melt. There is no way I will ever be able to compete with those big brown eyes of hers. One look and she has the ability to bring me down to my knees. I’ll do anything she asks me to.
Liza drags me by the hand through the crowd, spotting her friend playing—and losing, by the looks of it—a round of beer pong with a tall dude dressed like Andy Warhol. She’s dressed in head-to-toe leopard print, hair pulled up under a turban in the same material.
“Ohmigod,Liiizaaa,” she slurs, abandoning her game and coming to meet us. She wraps herself around my date and stumbles a little. “I amsoooohappy you came. What do you think?” She twirls in front of us to show off her outfit.
Liza laughs and says, “Best Fanny Brice costume ever.”
“Yes, girl! Except these nails arekillingme. I totally bombed the last three beer pong games I played because I can’t even hold the ball right.” She twirls her fingers in front of us, showing off her longer-than-Kylie’s acrylic nails. “I can’t even text.” We all laugh, and she turns to me. “You must be Vinny’s hot friend. Ohmigod, you were right, Liza—he’s hot. Vinny is such a dick for not letting you guys bump uglies.”
“Okaaaay.” Liza grabs her by the shoulders. “Let’s get you some water, yeah?”
We walk over to the bar and get her to chug a couple of glasses of water while people approach both the girls to say hi. I don’t mind being left out while they socialize—it’s their crowd, after all. I can happily sit here and just enjoy having my arm wrapped around Liza’s waist, feeling her against me for the rest of the night.
At one point in the middle of a conversation with one of her friends, I place a kiss on her head, staring absentmindedly into the crowd until my eyes lock with a woman with a black bob, white button-down shirt, and black skirt.
Kelly.
Fuck.
I haven’t seen her since she kicked me out of her house over two weeks ago for not wanting to sleep with her again. I stand up straight, and Liza turns to look at me, seeing the panic spread all across my face.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” She places a palm on my face, and I know she’s just made it worse, because Kelly is territorial, a predator. Kelly will see the fact that I’m here with another woman as a challenge, and it will be a massive fucking problem.
I clear my throat. “Nothing, I’m good.” I check my watch, and—fuck—it’s only been half an hour since we got here. Too early to go. Should I just fake being sick? Pretend like I caught a bug? But I really wanted to spend time with her tonight. If I tell her I’m sick, I’m going to have to go home and ruin our first date. Maybe if I just ignore Kelly’s presence, act like I didn’t see her, everything will be—
“Matt?”
Fuuuckkkkk.
“Kelly,” I say, back ramrod straight. “How are you?”
“Good, good,” she says. I feel Liza tense beside me, so I tighten my arm around her, trying to communicate to her that everything’s fine. “So how do you know Liza?”
Fuck. Me.
“Wh—what? You guys know each other?” I look quickly between Liza and Kelly, about to lose it when I see the expression on my date’s face. It’s murderous.
