Page 45 of Betting on the Boy Next Door
“Liar.” He says it without any heat. “Sorry about Presley.”
“She’s fine,” I say.
“She’s the worst,” he counters.
“True. But I kind of feel sorry for her.” If she’s been lusting after the touches, grazes, heavy-eyed looks, and even licks that Josh dished out all night, I can understand how it could be an obsession.
You know, if I was her. But I know better.
“Did something happen when you two were in the restroom?” he asks.
“We took our earrings off and brawled like ladies.”
He snorts. “I mean it. She came back to the table very . . . subdued.”
“I may have led her to believe that you and I have slept together.”
The car does a small swerve before he straightens it out. “You told her what?”
“I didn’t tell her anything. She made an assumption.”
“That you wanted her to make?”
“Yes. And I didn’t correct her.”
“And now she thinks we’re—”
“Yes.”
He’s quiet for a long beat. “It’s not a bad id—”
“I’m not that girl, Josh.”
“Right.” After another minute he adds, “Sorry.”
“Forget about it,” I say. “But don’t forget that tonight was a show. We aren’t a match, no matter what Ru—” I catch myself before finishing the sentence.
“No matter what Ruby thinks?” he finishes. “Does she think we should be a thing?”
I roll my eyes. “We’re not. We gave a convincing performance. Yay, us. Presley is getting the message, and I get to go home and place an order for T-shirts. Everyone wins. Except Presley.”
“Except Presley,” he echoes. After a moment, he clears his throat. “I kind of feel bad.”
“About?”
“Presley.”
I whip my head toward him. “Are you kidding me right now?”
He doesn’t take his eyes off the road, but his expression is serious. “No.”
“Well, don’t. Presley thinks she’s entitled to you. You didn’t break her heart. You hurt her ego. She’ll get over it, and no doubt she’ll have someone else’s giant rock on her finger within a year, and she’ll make a point of rubbing your nose in it. She’ll talk herself into thinking she’s the one that didn’t want you, and you’re going to be the dumped chump in her story for the rest of your life.”
“When you put it like that . . .”
“I’m putting it like that because that’s exactly how it’ll go. And another thing—”
He winces. “Nothing good has ever followed that.”
