Page 10

10

EVA

“ I thought this was a girls’ night,” I say to Clarissa, my oldest friend at the table, but I can’t take my eyes off Toby Anderson on the other side of it. He’s been gawking at me since I sat down, and his unnerving stare is starting to grind away my resolve.

“It was, but the boys heard about it and wanted to tag along,” Clarissa replies. “Trent gave me the puppy dog eyes, and how could anyone say no to those?”

“Yeah, but did you have to invite—” I don’t say his name, hoping my subtle head gesture in Toby’s direction gets the point across.

I’m sure he’s a good guy somewhere inside, but I’ve been dealing with his non-stop, intense persistence to take me on a date since our first year of college. I thought it was finally over when he heard I was leaving the country, but here he is again. Probably with one more big blowout attempt at winning my heart before I go.

Clarissa pours another round of shots for the table of eight, leaning in close to my ear as she does it. “No one invited him. He just showed up. As much as I hate to say it, doll, who could blame him? Who wouldn’t want a chance at that great ass of yours?” She giggles with the last part before handing the shots out.

My head sinks, and I try to hide the wide smile beaming across my face at the irony of it all. Toby’s been chasing after me like a lost puppy for years, and I never batted an eyelash in his direction. But the hulking, more-muscle-than-man behemoth barely says a word, and I’m ready to drop my panties and let him claim me.

“You’re leaving soon anyway. Don’t entertain his bullshit, and enjoy yourself. It’s why we’re all here, right?” Clarissa adds, flicking her long black hair over one shoulder.

It’s easier since we’re in a public bar, too. It’s packed with some mean-looking people who’d jump at the opportunity to come to a scared girl's rescue.

“Yeah, you’re right. Shouldn’t let him bring me down,” I sigh. It’s hard to follow through with the thought when his green snake eyes are constantly glued to me. He isn’t even talking to anyone, just sipping his soda with a straw and occasionally flicking the mess of greasy hair out of his eyes.

“So, we were thinking…” Trent leans over Clarissa to speak to me. They’ve been going steady for a little over a year, and I’ve enjoyed his company thoroughly. “Tonight’s been great, but I think we should do one more. Get the whole gang together for one hell of a pub crawl, and make sure the hangover keeps you sleeping for your flight. Have a proper goodbye.”

“I thought this was the goodbye.” I crook a brow at him.

“This is the auf wiedersehen , or for you American lot, the ‘until we meet again.’” He knocks back his shot. “What do you say?”

And there they are, the big puppy dog eyes Clarissa was talking about. She’s not wrong; you really can’t say no to them.

My turn to swallow the tequila. I wince and pull a funny face that gets a chuckle from Trent. “Do I have a choice?”

“Not really, no. It’s just the illusion of choice. We’ll organize the whole thing; you just need to show up. Okay? Okay.” And with that, he slides back to his side of the table and continues whatever conversation he was having before.

Our night continues with laughter and stories that have no reason to feel like they happened so long ago. War stories of frat house parties, the naughty shit we got up to on drunken nights, much like this one, and of course, reminiscing on the good times we shared.

“I need to wee,” I say, getting up from the table. My legs are a little wobbly, and I giggle while I stumble around Clarissa.

“Sure you wanna do that?” Trent asks. “Breaking the seal this early is going to be a nightmare.”

“Early? It’s bedtime, pal.” I’m slurring my words. Definitely time to call it.

“I’ll order you an Uber,” he says while I shuffle off through the bar room floor to the restrooms.

I do my business before taking a long look in the massive mirror while washing my hands. I’ve had a great night, and I’m sure the next will be the same. But I can’t stop thinking of what could’ve been had I dropped out of this and gone with Arthur instead.

Drunken horniness is a different kind of beast, and it’s rearing its head while I splash the cold water of false sobriety against my face. God, what I wouldn’t give for another ride on Arthur’s face.

I shuffle out of the bathroom, using the wall as an anchor point as I walk. But I don’t get far before Toby’s lanky frame blocks my path.

“Leaving so soon?” he asks.

“Why would I want to stay in the bathroom?” Annoyance is an understatement.

“I meant from here. Trent said he’s getting you an Uber.” Toby coughs awkwardly.

“Yeah, I’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

“Maybe I can be part of it. Lighten the load?” He runs his hand through the greasy tail of hair sticking to his forehead.

“No thanks. I’m good,” I shut it down immediately. I learned long ago that it’s the best method of approach.

“Okay, fine, but look, I know you’re leaving soon. I’d kick myself if I didn’t try one last time,” he says. “Let me take you out just once, it’ll be ni?—”

“I think you’re a nice guy, but I can’t. I am not interested.” My thoughts immediately head to Arthur. He doesn’t like sharing, and I’m not going to make him have to for Toby fucking Anderson.

Before either of us can get another word out, Trent steps beside Toby. He offers me a hand and says, “Hate to break up whatever this is, but your ride’s here, Eva.”

He’s an angel out of heaven, and I let him carry me away. Dodged another bullet and hopefully it'll be the last.