Dating Games(28)

“An arrangement?” Chloe waggles her brows deviously.

“Like a friends with benefits thing?” Nora smirks. “No strings, but you still get treated to a rocking orgasm when needed? Trust me. Those are a lot of fun.” She looks to Chloe, who nods in agreement.

“No… Well, I don’t think so. We still have to iron out the details, but if I agree to be his date to a bunch of stuffy dinner parties and events he has coming up, he’ll help me win back Trevor. I turned him down, claiming Trevor was too smart to believe I’d be dating someone like Julian, especially so soon after our own breakup, but then…”

“Julian sent flowers to you at Trevor’s while he was conveniently present,” Chloe sings, filling in the blanks.

“Exactly.”

“And it made him jealous.”

“Sure did.”

“So Julian wanted to prove you were wrong about Trevor being too smart. Now you’re considering his proposal.”

“You hit the nail on the head. But I haven’t agreed yet. I still have my doubts—”

“Despite the fact that Trevor was jealous after only a bouquet of flowers?” Chloe tilts her head at me. “Imagine if he caught you guys doing it? He’d come crawling back to you in a flash.”

“I don’t know about that. Even if he is jealous, there’s no guarantee it’ll make him want to be with me.”

Chloe and Nora share a look, shrugging.

“The reason Trevor broke up with me is because he doesn’t think I’m serious. Lying to him and pretending to date someone else?” I grab one of Chloe’s colorful throw pillows and hug it to my body. “That will most likely only solidify his original opinion.”

Squinting, Nora considers my words for a moment. “Then why didn’t you tell Trevor you weren’t dating Julian? And why didn’t you refuse to meet Julian for dinner tonight?”

I stare forward, shaking my head as I give the only answer that seems fitting. “I couldn’t say no to him.”

Chloe jumps to her feet, tugging me off the couch and into the den, which has become my bedroom, Nora following close on our heels. “Well, what are you going to wear?” She proceeds toward a hanging rack, shifting through all my clothes.

“I have no idea. I don’t even know where he’s taking me tonight.” I plop down onto the bed.

“Ask him.” She nods at my hand, which still clutches my cell.

“What? I can’t do that.”

“Sure you can,” Nora encourages.

“Then he’ll think I’m excited about tonight, and I can’t be excited about tonight. It’s strictly a business dinner. A glorified negotiation, so to speak.”

With a groan, Chloe steps toward me, taking the phone from my hand. “Then I’ll text him. While I’m at it, I’ll ask him what kind of panties he prefers. Briefs, thongs, or commando. Ya know… So you can dress appropriately…in all respects.”

My reflexes have never been so quick as I rip my cell out of Chloe’s hands. “Fine. I’ll text him.” I open my messages to see he responded to the one I’d sent with her address.

The Village? My mother always warned me about dating a village girl.





A smile builds on my face as I respond.

Well then, it’s a good thing I’m a Nebraska girl. Is there a dress code for dinner?





She warned me about Midwest girls, too. And wear something nice. A dress. Nothing too formal, but nothing too casual, either.





What will you be wearing?





Are you sexting with me?





I blush at his comment, drawing a blank as I try to come up with a witty response. Normally, I’d have an entire arsenal of possibilities. But something about Julian unnerves me, like I’m not myself.

If I were sexting, you’d be squirming in your seat, itching to drive over here and see me. I’m simply asking as a point of reference. And so I don’t pick out the same Brooks Brothers’ suit. It’s happened before, and it was the embarrassment of the century. So I made Trevor go home and change.





Chloe bursts out laughing. I glance over my shoulder to see her and Nora peering at the screen.

“You’re horrible,” Nora comments.

“Everyone uses comedy in awkward situations.”

“But you use it in all situations.”

“What can I say? I live an awkward life.”

When my phone buzzes, we all fling our eyes back to the screen.

Oh, Guinevere. I do enjoy your wit. No need to worry about us wearing the same Brooks Brothers suit. I don’t own any. Most of mine are Tom Ford, which I’ll be wearing tonight. I think slate gray. I’ll see you at seven.





I’m about to type a response when Nora snatches the phone from me. “Don’t.”

“What? Why?”

She blows out a breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You’ve been out of the dating world for too long.”

“No, I haven’t,” I protest. “I’ve been working in it for years.”

“Working in it and living it are two different things.” Chloe gives me a knowing look.