Page 69 of Love Marks
That’s why she’s so dressed up. I can’t believe I was enough of an idiot to think any of this was for my benefit.
“Sure. That’s fine.” I swallow, hard. My voice does not sound like mine. It’s strangled like I’m choking on the words.
It’s none of my business. None at all. It shouldn’t even bother me. Still, I can’t help the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. Repeatedly.
I blink, quickly, and grab my bag.
“Thanks for the heads up. I hope you have a great time.” I manage to make my voice sound somewhat positive despite how gutted I feel. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Chapter 30
Quinn
Sitting at a lonely high-top table at a dive bar in the East Village, I stir my gin and tonic in frustration. I probably should have just gone straight home — it’s not like Wesley had any idea that my so-called date was complete bullshit.
Still, after his reaction (or lack thereof) I needed a drink. I feel like someone put their hand in my intestines and twisted them all up into a knot.
I can’t believe I got dressed up for a fake date just to try and make Wesley jealous. Why would he be jealous? He probably has beautiful women throwing themselves at his feet. Just because he likes the way I look in a short skirt doesn’t mean he cares about my love life.
Flames dance on my face as I knock back the rest of my drink. I feel so silly to even think he’d care about whether I had a date or not. Clearly from his complete non-reaction, he doesn’t care one bit. The reminder of how easily he dismissed me just fuels the sinking feeling in my stomach. I drop my head into my hands, too upset to care about how dirty this table is.
“Miss Taylor? Is that you?”
My head snaps up and I can’t believe what I’m seeing. None other than Miss Perky standing in front of me. She’s dressed up too, with dark makeup on her eyes and a few other women flanking her. Of all the luck. God must really have it out for me.
“Oh…hi!” I search my memory. What the hell is her real name? It’s not like I can call her Perky.
“Hannah. Hannah Dwyer, from the hospital,” she says with a smile, then turns to her friends and waves them towards the bar. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh…you know.” I wave around me like it’s obvious why I’m drinking alone in this tiny dive. “Just hanging out.”
“Right,” she says, glancing around. “You know ladies drink free starting at 8? That’s why we come here.”
“Yes!” I hop on to her words like a life raft. “Yep, that’s why I’m here. Ready to get my drank on.” I force an excited twang into my voice.
“Would you like to join us? I’m here with some of my friends from college.” She gestures over to the group she came in with. “Unless you’re waiting for someone?”
I open my mouth to decline her offer. She’s just being nice. That’s what Perky — Hannah — does. She’s nice. But then I remember my earlier promise to myself to try and make a friend. Hannah, slightly annoying as she may be, well, I guess I have to admit that she’s been pretty kind to me. Maybe we could be at least…friendly.
“You know what?” I push my empty drink away from me and stand up from the table. “I’d love that.”
* * *
Two hours later, I’m completely trashed. My vision is slightly blurry, and I feel amazing. Empty shot glasses litter the bar in front of us as Hannah continues her story about her ex-girlfriend.
“You won’t believe it.” She laughs through her words, shaking her head. “It’s so embarrassing.”
“Come on!” I yell, clapping my hands together. The rest of the women around me cheer and shout with me, urging her to continue.
She covers her face with her eyes and shakes her head again. “I come up for air, right? And I look down and there’s blood everywhere, so I stopped. Wanted to make sure everything was okay. I’m like, oh shit, Nikki, you must have gotten your period. But it wasn’t her period.” She drags her hand down her face and looks at us. “It was a nosebleed! I guess we’d been a little bit intense, and she’d rocked against my face too hard. My nose just started bleeding.”
At this, the group starts howling with laughter. I can’t help but join in at the ridiculous scenario.
“Oh my god. What did you do?” Jess, one of Hannah’s friends, asks, leaning forward.
Hannah shrugs. “Tilted my head back and switched.” Gasps and chuckles run through the group. “That’s it.” She drinks the rest of the margarita. “Okay, it’s your turn, Quinn. What’s your most embarrassing sex story?”
My face colors red and I shake my head. “Jess, why don’t you go? I’ll get the next round.” I push away from our table and go over to the bar, waving the bartender over for another round of shots.