Page 50 of Show Me 1
Jesse
It was painfully evident before we’d even received our entrees that John and I were not a match. That shouldn’t have been a problem considering the oath I’d made to bang my way through senior year. It didn’t have to be a love match to hook up with someone, and in my short interactions with John, I’d gotten a similar impression, that this was a slightly classier step up from the average Grindr swipe and suck.
The problem was I couldn’t muster any enthusiasm. And I hadn’t been able to even before the date. I’d accepted when John asked because I thought I should, because I told myself that making sex videos with a frienddid notfall within the goal posts I’d set for senior year. That, in fact, it worked against the goalposts no matter how much I liked hanging out with Sam and no matter how much I really,reallylooked forward to messing around with him.
I’d assumed once I’d actually gotten out of the house—read: out of sight of Sam—and around John, what I remembered of his good looks and charm would have me salivating again.
But that wasn’t happening either.
John was attractive and funny, but as we sat across from one another, I had all the desire to rub up against him that I might have for a cardboard box.
We still had at least one course to get through. We’d discussed his time at the U, law school, working for the law firm, my time at the U, how much I loved cooking. I wasn’t sure what was left.
“So which part of town did you say you live in again?” I asked, taking a cheerful stab at another topic.
John smiled congenially. It was the same kind of smile I’d given him, which told me we were both striving to be polite awhile secretly hoping the other one would be the first to call this date out as a bust so we could both relax. “I rent a loft in Forsythe.”
“Ohhh, I love lofts.” Maybe we could shift to decor and aesthetics. I looked forward to aesthetics someday when I didn’t share a house with four other grimy dudes. “What kind of vibe do you have going? Sleek and minimal or cozy and lived-in?”
John considered for a moment, his gaze straying to my phone sitting at the edge of the table as the screen lit up with a notification. “The furniture was already there when I moved in. I’d say it’s a renter-chic vibe.” He chuckled. “Lots of beige and neutrals.”
Okay, this topic was a fail. Painful. He nudged his chin toward my phone screen again. “You need to see who that is? Looks like a fireworks show going off over there.”
“Sorry, that’s so rude of me.” The first notification was from Sam. I had no doubt the rest were, too. I clicked the screen to darken it and turned the phone over. “It’s just my roommate being an idiot.”
“Sam?”
“I can’t wait to tell him you immediately knew which roommate I was referring to when I said ‘idiot.’”
John laughed again. He had a nice easy laugh that, combined with his warm blue eyes, should’ve given me butterflies in my stomach, but didn’t. I automatically contrasted them with Sam’s and found them lacking. “He seemed cool, though, at the party. Are you two close?”
I held back a laugh. If only he knew. “We’ve grown closer recently. We have a class together this semester, and we both come from big families, though I think his was much more relaxed and affectionate than mine. And he’s the exact same way. Probably why we get along so well.” I tapered off, realizing I was blabbering. “Anyway, he’s one of my favorite humans, which is kind of a feat lately. So many of them suck.” That last part slipped out, as did what I suspected was a fond smile I fought to contain immediately. If I’d thought maybe I could salvage the date before, the expression on John’s face now openly said we were past that point. “We have this running joke about cockblocking, so I’m sure he’s blowing me up in an attempt to keep up the streak that began the night of Mark’s dad’s party.”
“He was cockblocking you?”
“Well, inadvertently. He still insists he was providing wingman services.”
“For me?” John seemed amused as I shrugged. Why not tell the truth?
“Yep.”
John winced. “Okay, yeah, he’s not the greatest wingman, probably. Although—” He tilted his head to one side, considering. “When I was looking for you before I had to go, he was the one who asked me to leave my number for you.”
“Really?” I blinked, both intrigued and slightly dismayed to learn John hadn’t left it of his own volition. Not that it mattered now.
“So maybe he wasn’t a failure as a wingman after all. He seemed like a good guy. Told me you thought I was cute and that you’re funny and nice. He mentioned the cooking again. Apparently you’ve really impressed him in that regard. He said you were one of his favorite people, too.”
“Oh.” Heat spread all through my chest and over my cheeks. Normally I’d be more embarrassed at what sounded like Sam trying his hardest to foist me upon John, but instead I envisioned him telling John all of that and another one of those fond smiles threatened my lips.
I was dying to know what kind of messages he’d been sending. Was he trying toCyrano de Bergeracmy date?
John leveled a gaze on me. “This isn’t going to happen, is it. The spark is gone, yeah? It’s not just me?”
I blew out a relieved breath. “It’s not just you. I guess it was one of those one-night-only things?”
“Maybe.” John’s pensive expression broke around a smile. “So how about we just eat our meal and hang out as friends, then call it a night?”
“Sounds great.”