Page 42 of No More Bad Boys
I shake my head and say in a tight voice. “It’s nothing.”
Blake sighs. “Okay.” He doesn’t like that answer.
For the first time in my life, I’m truly jealous of my sister. Kenley has always known how to talk to guys, how to attract them.
We don’t discuss stuff like this, but she probably also knows what to do when she gets alone with one. I mean, they certainly kept coming back for more.
Even before Larson, everyone she dated seemed to think she wasthe one.
I’ve never been anyone’sone.In fact, for all I know, Blake is dating lots of people. Maybe he went out with someone last night and another girl the night before that when I stayed in to study.
Maybe that’s why he’s less-than-forthcoming about his life.
Maybe he has a girlfriend.
“What did you do last night?” I blurt out the question.
“I went out with a friend,” he says, clearly wondering which random field of questions I picked that one from. “Why?”
I knew it.
My veins are instantly mired with acidic jealously of this unnamed woman.
She’s probably sophisticated and beautiful, maybe one of the gorgeous female reporters from the station.
Maybe she’s someone from his past—maybe Ronnie knows her andthat’swhy Blake was in such a hurry to get me away from him.
Oh my God. I laugh to myself. What I want to do is slap myself. My thoughts are becoming completely irrational.
OfcourseBlake goes out with other girls, and he should. He’s a young, single guy, and we’ve only gone outtwotimes.
What is he doing to me?
I don’t even recognize myself. I’m being illogical.
My phone beeps its text message alert, saving me from having to respond.
“Excuse me,” I say, and pull the phone from my purse. The text is from Troy.
Troy: Hi. Haven’t seen much of you lately. Free tomorrow night?
Me: Yes. Rock climbing?
Troy: Great. Pick you up at 6?
Me. Great. C u then.
I turn off my phone and find I’m breathing easier. The brief exchange with my friend reassures me.
And making plans with him was definitely the right thing to do. Blake spends time with other girls—I shouldn’t stop seeing other guys just because he’s so much more…more.
It makes sense to keep seeing Troy.
Just thinking of his non-demanding, comfortable personality makes my head feel clearer.
When this thing with Blake ends, as I know it will, Troy (or someone like him) will be there, waiting for me to get back on track and start making sensible choices again.
We pull up in front of my building at three-thirty a.m. The complex is still and dark. Blake turns the key, and his truck goes still and quiet as well. He reaches for my hand on the seat between us. I let him take it, but I don’t look at him.
