Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 92070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
"Should I go so you can get ready this way?" I ask.
She laughs and takes another bite.
And, once again, I bury my words under a mouthful of potatoes. I find the sense to change the subject to practicalities. Where she sits. When to call. What she wants to say to Archie.
When he's five minutes out, she moves to the front room. I order another drink and prepare to help her score a better man.
Chapter Twenty-Six
VAL
"You look beautiful." Archie greets me with a hug. Once he's close enough to whisper, he adds, "Is he here?"
"In the back."
"Can he see us?"
"The outline," I say. "But he won't hear until I call."
"In that case." He lets his hand slide to my hip, and he leans a little closer. He releases me with a knowing smile and shifts into fake-flirting mode (it's very fake). "Is this our first time getting a drink?"
"Just the two of us, yeah."
Archie surveys the room a little too obviously. He places his palm on the small of my back, and he leads me to the bar.
Unlike Dare's hand, Archie's hand feels strange. Wrong. Not in a sickening way, but enough, I want it gone.
But, hey, this is the plan.
Using Archie to make Dare jealous, while I pretend to use Dare to make Archie jealous.
Not confusing at all.
As planned, I take the seat at the table by the window. I can't see Dare from here, really, but I can sorta make out the spot where we were sitting.
With his back to the rest of the bar, Archie absolutely can't see Dare. But I guess that doesn't really matter, since Archie is in on the whole charade.
How the hell do I play this?
"What are you thinking?" Archie slides into the tall chair. "A lot of laughing? Some of this." He places his hand on mine and leans in like he's whispering a secret. "Then call with something spicier?"
"Spicier?"
"What did Zelda tell you?"
"What? Zelda? Why would she talk about you?" I fail to feign ignorance.
"So that's why you're nervous." He laughs. "You're a bad liar."
Guilty. I nod.
"Don't tell me those movies didn't inspire conversation. What was the one with the guy who went to a sex dungeon?"
"No, he opened a sex dungeon," I say. "It was a romantic comedy."
"And that didn't inspire a few complaints about my lack of an open mind?"
For some reason, it's easier to talk to him about sex. Because I don't want him, I guess. Because it doesn't feel loaded. "It came up after a few glasses of wine."
"Don't worry. You won't offend me. I was uptight when we were together."
"Not anymore?"
"I had a fling over spring break."
"Something kinky?" I ask.
He blushes, actually blushes. "A little."
My phone buzzes in my lap.
"A lot." He looks to the noise as my phone buzzes again. "Is that him?"
It is.
Dare: Mood seems good. You feeling good?
Val: It's great. Archie is funny. I'm relaxed. Flirtation is happening.
Dare: I'm here if you need me.
"Is he jealous?" he asks.
"That doesn't come through in text form."
"No?" He shoots me an are you sure look. "What did you do after we talked?"
"Huh?"
"You're flushed," he says. "And your hair is mussed."
"Mussed?"
He leans closer, wraps his hand around my neck, whispers in my ear. "I've lived with you for six months. I know how you wear your hair."
"Are you flirting?"
"Isn't that the idea?" he asks.
"He can't hear."
"Let him hear," Archie says. "I'll make it good." He stands, stretches his arms over his head, and very theatrically says, "I'll grab the drinks."
Am I that obvious too?
I look to my cell.
Val: I'll leave it on, just in case, but don't send too many texts or it gets obvious.
Dare: It will spice up your night.
Val: You noticed that?
Dare: Might help get you in the mood.
Val: I'm already in the mood.
Because of my lesson with Dare, but, hey, I don't have to say that, even if I am thinking it very loudly.
Really, my entire brain is flashing Dare Dare Dare. I want to kiss him again, touch him again, touch him properly.
I stay on mission. I call him, set the volume to the minimum, and I place the cell in my lap.
Archie returns with the drinks, another round of infused gin tonics, orange for me this time, cardamom for him, and leans in for another hug slash whisper. "Are we on?"
I nod.
"Did you two kiss?" he asks.
"For practice." It sounds weak. Even I hear that. Who kisses for practice? "Only for half an hour." Only that's an eternity in kissing.
Archie's eyes go wide. "Only half an hour? Did you only have sex too?"
"We didn't even go below the waist," I say.
"So you touched above the waist?"
Right. It does sound a little obvious like that. But he's wrong. I think.
"It was over the clothes."
"Which clothes?"
"His boxers."
"Valeria!" He says my name the way my mom does, with a perfect Spanish accent (where did he learn that) and an intense what have you done tone. "That's below the waist."