Page 84 of Playbook
“Archer says you’re unbeatable on the new Street Fighter and I want to test that theory.”
I laugh. “You got it, but first I’m gonna take London home.” I glance at my girl. I really want her to stay, even if it’s not to make out. “Unless… you changed your mind and can stay a little longer?”
Maybe now that she’s faced everyone and seen it’s no big deal, she’ll hang. Although, who am I kidding? If she does, I’m probably dragging her right back to my room.
“Actually, I already called an Uber,” she says and lifts a hand. “Bye, guys.”
To everyone else it probably doesn’t look it, but I can tell she’s rushing out. I walk her out to the car waiting at the curb.
We stop a foot away and I take her hand. “Damn. I was really hoping to drive you home so we could make out some more. My truck has plenty of room in the back.”
She giggles. “A selling point I’m sure you’ve tested on many occasions.”
I have, but I don’t know if I’ve ever wanted to as badly as I do now. “What are you doing tomorrow?”
“Working.”
“Right.”
She seems amused as she watches me try to figure out when I can see her next.
“Tomorrow night. Some of us are going to Tripp’s place to watch Monday Night Football.”
“Wouldn’t that be weird?”
“No. Not at all. There’ll be other people too.” I squeeze her hand. “Come with me. Please?” I’m not above begging.
“Yeah.” She nods. “All right.”
She steps away from me. I hold open the door for her as she ducks into the car. Then shut her in and watch as she leaves.
Inside, I find Archer in the kitchen while our guests are playing video games. His smirk grows as I get closer.
“Interesting day,”he says quietly, also signing.
“You’re telling me.”I take a seat at the island and the envelope in my shorts digs into my thigh, reminding me of the letter.
I take it out as Archer fires off the obvious question I expected.“So, I guess things aren’t so fake anymore?”He shakes his head.
I grin, drop the envelope on the counter, and drum my fingers on it excitedly as he adds,“I never thought I’d see the day, you with a real girlfriend.”
“Why?”I ask, a little defensively.
“Maybe because you’ve said time and again that you don’t want one and thatthese are the years to have fun and not take anything too seriously.”
I have said that. Many times.“She’s cool as fuck and I hope there’s a lot more making out, but it’s not like that. We’re just having fun…and kissing her is the most fun I’ve had in a long time.”
God, it’s been so long I don’t even know what it’d be like to date someone for real anymore. I don’t think I’d be sacrificing fun with her, but the idea still gives me pause.
He laughs, then tips his head toward the envelope on the counter.“Junk?”
“Where’d you find this?”
“With the rest of our mail.”He glances at the stack of junk magazines and marketing brochures.“Who’s Sabrina Whitlock?”
“I’m not sure.”
“You’re acting funny. What aren’t you saying?”
