Page 96 of Broken Romeo
Was she… was she flirting?
Was it because I tugged Addison into my lap? Did that stupid plan backfire within goddamn minutes?
“Ain’t that your girl?” Duncan asked.
“She’s not his girl,” Addison snapped.
Duncan gave me a knowing look, but neither of us said another word. With that, Addison hopped to her feet and stomped off. “Thank Christ,” I muttered.
“Damn, that one’s like herpes, isn’t she?” he asked while jerking his chin toward where Addison was walking away from us. “No amount of antibiotics is gonna prevent her from popping up at the most inconvenient time.”
“Poetic, Duncan.”
“I know.” He grinned and took a sip of his coffee.
I turned back to where Katherine and Nate were talking and—Jesus Christ. That mother fucker brought her a muffin from Starbucks. A fucking muffin. The pussiest pastry ever.
“He brought her a muffin?” Duncan snorted. “That’s a pussy breakfast.”
I snapped my gaze at my best friend, the fucking mind reader. “It is, right?”
“Fuck yeah. Real men eat scones. And biscuits. Muffins are for pussies.”
It made sense. I didn’t know why, but it did. Thank God for Duncan. This was why we were friends.
I finished shoving all my things into my backpack and gave Duncan a quick goodbye before crossing the quad to Turner Hall.
I could hear Nate talking as I got closer. “I would even venture to say you’re the farthest thing from a basic betch I’ve ever seen.” I rolled my eyes at him.
Fucking Prince Charming right there.
Maybe I was overreacting.
She couldn’t actually like this Gomer of a dude.
Then, flustered, she pulled her phone free from her back pocket, looking at the screen.
I froze like a deer in the headlights.
My email.
I forgot about the email I’d just sent her before all this started.
I took an unhealthy delight in the fact that I fractured whatever stupid Saved by the Bell innocent muffin moment they were having.
Nate was holding the door to Turner Hall open for her, but her face had flushed a peachy-pink shade and flustered, she shook her head. “I’ll, um, be inside in a second. Thank you again for the muffin.”
His smile dropped briefly, but he nodded, then disappeared into the theater. Buh-bye Nate.
I smiled wider, noting that she tossed the chocolate chip muffin Nate had brought her into the trash.
She turned her back to me, not realizing I was watching her, then she quickly typed something on her phone. In seconds, my phone buzzed with her reply.
That was a one-time thing. I’m out of the sex work business.
Smiling, I hiked my bag higher onto my shoulder, wincing at the tweak of pain that stabbed down to my elbow from practice yesterday.
A one-time thing, huh?