Page 15 of Hot Girl Summer

“Very funny,” I deadpan. “Somehow, I feel like you want his sausage more than I do.”

He cocks an eyebrow.

“Well you’re spoken for, so whatever weird crush you have on Danny, don’t,” I say. God, I really do sound like a possessive stalker.

My phone chimes with a text, and the sound triggers a shot of anxiety through my chest. The tiniest part of me is hoping for a follow back from Danny, but when I check the screen, it isn’t him.

Alex: Are we still on for later?

I try to downplay my frustration and send a quick reply to confirm, but I know I can’t hide anything from Stefan. “It’s so much easier to have disposable dick, am I right?” I say, in an attempt to offset the disappointment.

“You won’t get anywhere with that throwaway mind-set, look what it has done to our planet,” he says, dramatically. “Maybe it’s time you invested in a reusable dick.”

“That’s what rechargeable dildos are for,” I say.

We laugh and I down the rest of my coffee, trying to ignore the little voice in my head that’s telling me Stefan’s probably right.

Three hours later, after a shower and a fresh face of makeup, I knock on the door to Alex’s apartment. Luke answers.

“Hey, Phi. Alex is taking a shower. Come in.”

“Mmm, something smells good,” I say, following him into the lounge.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“Water’s fine,” I say, taking a seat on the couch.

“Seriously? You have not one, buttwomixologists at your disposal.”

“I’m good. Really. I drank far too much last night.”

My hangover had worn off with my shower, but I know I can’t go through that for the second night in a row. It’s much safer to stick to good old-fashioned H2O, at least until after I’ve eaten something. After a rummage in the kitchen, Luke hands me a large glass of water and sits down on the adjacent couch.

“So, what are you doing tonight?” I ask.

“I have a date,” he says, with a wide grin.

“Taking someone out on Tinder doesnotqualify as a date. Everybody knows what it’s there for.”

“Call it what you want, but it’s a date to me.”

“Anyone I might know?”

Luke swipes and taps his phone, then hands it to me.

“She’s cute,” I say, swiping through photos of the same girl I’ve seen a thousand times before. Luke doesn’t have a type per se, but he does seem to have a penchant for petite, doe-eyed brunettes. After he lights some candles and sets the table, Alex emerges freshly showered, with a strategically placed towel hung around his waist. He looks every inch the model that he is.

Steam practically emanates off him, and tiny droplets glisten on his tanned, muscular chest. He smells like soap, and his damp, messy hair looks effortlessly perfect. Aesthetically, he has all the makings of a romance novel hero, but I feel nothing above the waist.

“I’ll be out in a minute, babe. Dinner’s almost ready,” Alex says, flashing a bright white smile before disappearing again.

Once Luke leaves for his date, Alex and I take a seat at the small dining table by the open bay window. Outside, the sound of families making the most of the balmy summer evenings spark nostalgia and warm the cockles of my cold, dead heart, and I can’t tear my eyes away from the incredible moonlit view of the ocean.

“This is amazing,” I say, polishing off my meal of chicken parmigiana, garlic bread and a mixed salad. “Who knew you could navigate a kitchen so well?”

“That hurts. No dessert for you,” Alex says, pouting.

“I didn’t want it anyway.”

---