Page 47 of If the Stars Align
“Wait, are you sure?” Sam asks. “I have a great tea for menstrual cramps. Let me make you some.”
“Thistea actually tastes good,” Claire reassures me.
“No, I’m fine. Thank you, though. I just need some rest.” I attempt a smile, but I’m not sure it’s convincing.
“Okay,” Sam says, giving me a once-over.
“Call us if you need anything,” says Claire, and they both give me a hug.
As soon as I get back to my dorm room, I reach for the phone.
I need to call him.
I need to talk to Dex.
But my fingers are frozen.
My mind is blank.
I don’t know his phone number.
I don’t know if he lives in a dorm, or off campus.
I don’t knowhimanymore.
But I do know how to reach his parents. So I call them.
Mrs. Dexter answers. “H-hello?”
She sounds groggy.
Shit.I didn’t even think about the time. Beachwood is anhour ahead of Evanston. Of course they were asleep.
My thoughts are racing. I have no idea why I’m calling, or what to say. I could ask for Dex’s number, but what for? I have a boyfriend. I’m not going to call Dex to shoot the shit about his acne commercial. And I’m sure he’s moved on from me by now. He probably has some stunning model girlfriend. What if I call him, and she answers?
No. I can’t do it. I never should have disturbed Dex’s parents.
I’m about to end the call, but something stops me.
I really want to hear Mrs. Dexter’s voice one more time.
“Hello?” she says again.
In the background, I catch Mr. Dexter talking to his wife. “Who is it?” he asks through a yawn.
I hang up before I sob. Then I cry myself to sleep.
I’ve been planning Asher’s birthday surprise for weeks. The school year’s almost over. We’ll be graduating soon, and I’ll be moving…so I want to make this night extra special. We still haven’t discussed where our relationship is headed, but I’m okay with that. Right now, I’d rather focus on the present. On spending as much time with Asher as I can. Last weekend, we hardly left his bed. He was exceptionally attentive to my needs. Sometimes I think that’s his way of trying to influence my decision about our future—with really good sex. While I appreciate his efforts tremendously, I wish he didn’t need to convince me that we belong together. I should be thanking my lucky stars for him. But I have the perfect date planned for his birthday and, if all goes well, I’m hoping that any flicker of doubt I have about Asher will be extinguished.
We start the evening with dinner at a restaurant in Little Italy. When we walk in, Asher’s face lights up at the sound of Sinatra’s “Come Fly With Me”over the speakers. It’s his favorite song. Icalled the hostess ahead of time and asked if they could play it at exactly 7:00 p.m.
We drink velvety red wine, and eat warm crusty bread dipped in herby olive oil, and enjoy proper spaghetti and meatballs that aren’t cooked by me. I tell him to save room for dessert, and then I take him back to the Cheesecake Factory, where we had our first date. I order one tuxedo cheesecake, and I really do split it with him this time. Then I take him to the top of the John Hancock building for drinks, and we toast each other with miles of city lights twinkling around us like stars.
We go back to his place after that, but I tell him the night’s not over yet. I popGladiatorinto the DVD player and we watch it in each other’s arms. As soon as the credits roll, we’re kissing. I straddle his lap, and he tightens his grip around me and carries me to bed. He strips everything off me slowly and kisses me even slower. Minutes turn into hours. Whispers turn into moans. And before we know it, it’s 5:00 a.m.
But as I lie in his bed, there are nervous flutters in my stomach. I should be on top of the world right now. Our date was amazing. Everything went according to plan. Asher was surprised and happy with his birthday celebration. He even gave me multiple orgasms. For some reason, though, I feel restless. So I tell Asher we can’t go to sleep just yet.
“What do you mean?” he asks, rubbing his eyes. “It’s practically morning.”
