Page 67 of One Night Only
“Me too.”
“You go first because mine is better.” I glance up when she doesn’t respond, already halfway to the kitchen. “Is it about the Griffiths’ party? Did you suck it up and get a date?”
“Declan dropped by.”
I pause for only a second, staring into our tiny refrigerator. Individually the words make sense but together… “What?”
“That guy you slept with.”
“I know,” I say, snapping a little. I swing the fridge door shut and turn to look at her, the picture of ease no doubt. “Why?”
“To get his watch.”
Oh. Of course. I’d almost forgotten about the damn wristwatch. But I thought…unless he knew I wouldn’t be here. Unless he came purposefully so I wouldn’t see him. Which makes sense. I told him I didn’t want anything more and he took the initiative and broke off the last thing tying us together unless you count our mutual friend group, which doesn’t really count because—
“Sarah?”
“Hmm?” I snap out of my head and go to my bedroom.
Declan was here?
I leave my door open. “What did he say?” I call from my room, sounding super casual and normal.
“Nothing much. He was nice. Apologized for the watch, made some small talk about taxes.”
Taxes?
I’d told Claire what happened in Ireland, a played-down version of events but she knew we’d slept together again, so I’m not surprised when she appears in my doorway, fiddling with the gold chain around her neck.
“I think he was buying himself time. Probably hoping to see you.”
I shrug. “So?” I ask. “Did you flirt?”
“No.”
“I told you you could.”
“I know,” she says, watching me carefully. “I’m making a salad. You will also be eating the salad.”
“I’ve got a leftover burrito.”
“Then you can eat it with the salad,” she says and closes my door.
I strip out of my clothes, throwing on a fresh pair of pjs. I don’t understand. I’m mad at her. She knows that. But I have no reason to be mad at her. She didn’t do anything. And besides, this is what I wanted to happen.
I should be glad.
So why do I feel the opposite?
16
Saturday night. Date night. Date night with Matthias.
Good-looking, nice-smelling Matthias.
I have nothing to wear.
Everything I put on looks a little too revealing, a bit NSFW if you ask me. I know we’re not at the office, but it feels like it’s going to take at least three dinners and a coffee meetup before I’ll be able to fully separate the worlds.
