Page 13 of Venus
Trevor grins. “Well there’s this girl—”
I groan. “I do not want your seconds.”
No offense to the girls he’s been with, but there’s just lines I don’t want to cross with my friends. Sharing pussy is one of them. That mustache on his face is becoming a biohazard from how many women have sat on it. I want no part of that.
“She’s a friend of a friend of a girl I hooked up with a few nights ago. She’s seen you around. She’s real cute and thinks you’re cute. That’s like…fate. How about I set you up?”
I shoot him an unimpressed glare. “Hard pass.”
“Dude,” Trevor protests. “I’m not saying you have to marry the girl. Just give her a chance. If you don’t like her, then don’t see her again.”
The football game starts and we momentarily forget the conversation. As soon as it breaks to commercial, Trevor pulls up his phone and zooms in on a group photo of a group of girls.
He wasn’t wrong, this girl is cute. Blonde hair, blue eyes, pretty smile.
But they’re notherblue eyes and it’s notherblonde hair.
But I also know I have to stop chasing the ghost of a girl that doesn’t want me. Reluctantly at halftime, I agree to meet up with her. Trevor texts his fling and he passes along the girl’s phone number. Her name is Evelyn, and I take a deep breath before sending a message introducing myself as a mutual friend and asking if she wants to meet me at the diner tomorrow night.
She replies quickly and enthusiastically.
I have to admit, it feels good to know that there’s someone out there that’s actually excited at the thought of seeing me, and Evelyn helps me forget about Venus.
For now.
I push open the door to the only diner in town. It hums with low conversation and a child asking their momfor a quarter so they can get a gumball at the machine by the register. My hands instinctively go into my pockets as I search around for a head of blonde hair.
I spy Evelyn just a few feet away. She waves and stands to greet me, giving me a sweet hug. She looks exactly like the photo, and her energy is adorable. The waiter comes to the table and we order, and then the conversation begins to flow.
She’s great. Better than great. In fact, I’m enjoying myself. Most of the conversation is just getting to know little things about each other. Where we grew up. Our families. Our jobs.
She’s a wedding photographer, and we laugh over the crazy stories of drunk wedding guests.
Just as my thoughts start to drift to the fact that Trevor might have been right about this, the door opens.
In the middle of one of Evelyn’s stories about a bridezilla, my breath gets caught in my throat and my heart drops straight into my shoes.
It’s her.
Venus.
The rest of the diner seems to fade into nothing. She doesn’t see me, but I sure as hell see her. Same blonde curly hair. Same little jean shorts faded in all the right places. She walks in like she owns the floor tiles. Confidence in every line of her body.
She approaches the to-go counter and skims one of the sticky plastic menus there. She bites her lip and cocks her hip out as she considers her options, her ankle rolling in soft circles as she leans against the counter.
Then, like a slap, cold water splashes across my face. I gasp and the entire diner goes silent. I blink and regain my wits, looking forward to my date. Evelyn looks to Venus and then back at me, her face furious.
I open my mouth, but no words come out. Evelyn shakes her head, gathers her purse, and mutters‘jerk’as she storms out of the restaurant.
I sigh and take the last three limp napkins from the dispenser on my table to wipe my face. When I open my eyes again, a hand extends toward me with a few extras.
Venus gives me a teasing smirk. “She’s better than me. I would’ve gone for the nuts.”
Her causal tone makes me chuckle and I take the extra napkins from her. “It was deserved.” I dab the wet spot on the front of my pants and slap the ice off my lap. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”
“We live in a town with a population of six thousand people, of course we’d see each other around,” she says.
“That’s not what I meant.” I say back. She takes a straw from the little container on the table and plays with the paper wrapper. “I meant that I wanted to…I just didn’t think blindsiding you at the hospital was the best option. There’s a very fine line between a romantic and a creep.”
