Page 39 of Playboy For Hire

I winced. “About as well as you’d expect, apparently.”

“What I can’t believe is thatyoudidn’t expect it.” She shot me a withering look. “Seriously, what did you think would happen?”

“I thought I’d make him seem even hotter if I kind of talked him up to his date. And maybe I’d make his date be a little worried about whether he deserved Raf, instead of the other way around.”

“Jesus, Ryder. Sometimes I don’t understand how your brain works.”

I sighed. “Sometimes I don’t either.”

It was becoming more and more apparent that my brain didn’t work that well at all. Too bad crafting the perfect outfit for any social occasion wasn’t a job. Or identifying movie stills. Those seemed to be my only tangible skills these days.

I was drowning in most of my classes, and midterms were coming up. I’d sent in another batch of job applications and cover letters last week, finally doing something about all those job listings I was getting in my email, but I hadn’t heard back from anyone.

If only my grades were better. Or my cover letter skills. I was sure I could make a good impression if I ever got a face-to-face interview. But the weeks kept ticking by on the way to graduation, and I still had zero prospects. I felt sick to my stomach just thinking about it.

“Anyway,” I continued. “I don’t even think Raf’s date was that interesting, but Raf acted like I’d ruined his one chance at future happiness and stormed out of the bar.”

“I’m sorry.” Tessa made a sympathetic face. “I mean, I still think you’re an idiot, but I’m sorry. What did he say when you got home that night?”

Ah. This was the point where the lie broke down. Because I saw Raf every day, and if we’d actually fought, we would have made up by now. But Quinn…Quinn, I hadn’t heard from since that night. And I didn’t think I ever would again.

“He hasn’t really been talking to me,” I said, knowing it sounded lame. “I’m trying to give him some space.”

“Have you apologized yet?”

I wrinkled my nose. “I’m not sure he wants to hear from me again.”

“Well, tough shit, he lives with you. Of course he’s going to hear from you again. Besides, you do owe him an apology.”

Did I? Owe Quinn one, that was. I’d meant well, but from Quinn’s reaction, and now Tessa’s, I wondered if I needed to recalibrate. But I still didn’t think Quinn wanted anything to do with me.

“Do you really think that would help?” I asked.

“Do I think the guy whose night you ruined would like an apology from you? Yeah, dumbass, I do.”

I sighed again. Tessa didn’t know the whole story, obviously. But maybe she was right.

“Just text him,” she said, looking pointedly at my phone where it sat on the table.

“Now?” I couldn’t text Quinn if Tessa was looking at me. Or Raf, for that matter.

“You should have done it in person, the night you fucked up. But if you do it now, at least you won’t delay any longer.”

Her logic was perfectly sound. My hand had just closed around my phone, wondering how to get out of this, when it buzzed.

I looked down, and my eyes went wide.

QUINN: How would you feel about ruining another date?

It took a while to get over to U Street, but I walked as fast as I could. Quinn’s texts had conveyed a sense of urgency.

Tessa had been understanding when I told her a friend needed my help. In fact, she’d given me a wink and mimed zipping her lips.

“You’re the best.” I’d given her a quick kiss on the cheek, and made a mental note to tell Mason and Dana to comp this night for her, since I’d abandoned her.

DC in March swung between polar vortex and tropical vacation every few days, but it was chilly outside tonight. Humid, too—the kind of night that sank into your bones and made you feel even colder. I took one last look at my phone as I reached The Dartmoor, its bright lights casting a warm glow on the two row houses that stood to either side.

QUINN: I’ll explain everything later. Please just come if you can. I’ll owe you.

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