Chapter Three
The Next Day
Bella
Seeing Dominic and hearing him drone on about a girl always sets me off on a tailspin of inferiority. When you combine that with feeling like I’m moving toward the wrong career, fear of upsetting my parents, and Brock blowing up my phone, I’m ready to toss in the towel and hide under my covers for a week.
But instead, I’m on my way to Principles in Auditing with the world’s weight on my shoulders. What does this Rissa woman have that I don’t? I adjust my backpack and dodge around a couple in a heated argument in front of the women’s restroom.
Right. She’s petite with pink hair. I’m not exactly supermodel tall, but no one will mistake me for a pale-skinned, blue-eyed pixie. My hair is mousy dark blonde, and my eyes are green. Not to mention, she has a job. A job alongside Dominic. And she has an upcoming art exhibit in New York City.
All I have to offer is accounting software that bores me to tears every time I input numbers.
Why did I let Mom and Dad think I wanted to follow in their footsteps? One random conversation occurred during senior year, and here I am at their alma mater under the tutelage of their favorite professor, Professor Peterson. The man is brilliant, but I hate drudge work.
When my phone vibrates in my pocket, I jump. Please, don’t be Brock. I’ve got to get a new phone before he has time to purchase another burner phone and starts harassing me again.
It’s Ruby. Thank God.
“Hello?” I slip to the side of the hallway by the windows and lean my shoulder against the wall. The sun basks me in its warm glow.
“How was yesterday?”
“Fine.”
“Anything happen at Ben and Sam’s?” I love my best friend’s enthusiasm that someday something will happen between Dominic and me, but it’s not.
“No. Nothing happened. I dropped off the laundry, and Ben cooked lunch for everyone. That’s it. Well, lunch was delicious. He made prime rib with homemade au jus sauce, and my mom sent over her crack chicken casserole.”
“God, you suck. Why’re you throwing that in my face? I ate a chicken salad sandwich from the gas station yesterday.”
“I would’ve saved you some, but you know how it is at my brothers’ house. There’s no such thing as leftovers.”
A group of football players tosses a ball back and forth as they walk past. Of course, there are several girls following behind them, giggling and staring at their butts. Not that I blame them. There’s something about a man with a football in his hand. I shudder as Dominic’s face and perfect backside flash through my head.
“Was Xavier there?”
“Yes.” Xavier has a magnetic personality but that brings all the girls out of the woodwork to dote on him. It’s left him with a big head and a reputation as a serial dater.
“I talked to him for a little bit about work. He was complaining about their receptionist. They’re going through a temp service, switching them out every week, making it impossible to have consistency with their clients.”
“That’s a bummer.” I don’t have to see her to know the wheels are turning in her brain. When she didn’t go to college after we graduated, I thought she was being irresponsible by not continuing her education.
But more and more, I’m seeing the necessity of feeling things out before committing to something that’ll make you miserable for the rest of your life. Maybe she flits from job to job, but she doesn’t feel tied down to a depressing future.
“What’re you doing?”
“Waiting for class,” I sigh as a line of students enters the room for my next class. They’re all khaki pants wearing, pocket protector types. This is not my crowd.
I glance down at my clothes. A white ruffle top tucked into denim shorts, a black Gucci belt, and cute gold ankle-strap sandals. I don’t fit in here.
“Did you see Dominic?”
“Yes.”
“Well, what gives?” The irritation is evident in her voice because I’m making her dig for information. But I don’t feel like drudging up the conversation about Brock or about this Rissa chick.
“We argued for a bit, as usual.” I skip mentioning that our fight was about Xavier and Dominic’s reiteration that he’s a player. There’s no need to shove it in her face. “But Brock texted me, and Dominic bugged me until I told him what was happening. At first, he was lecturing me, but then he toned it down a bit. It’s not my fault that Brock keeps finding a way to contact me. I block him the second he contacts me.”
“Again? What’s wrong with that guy? He was the one cheating on you and claiming you were frigid because he couldn’t make you orgasm. That’s entirely his fault. Not yours.” It also didn’t help that he always believed I was hung up on Dominic and brought that up whenever we had sex. It was a mood killer.
But true.
“Please tell me you aren’t around a bunch of people while talking about my non-existent sex life.” It’s not like I want to advertise to the universe that I can only come with a toy. That’s not a glowing endorsement for getting another boyfriend.
Brock was my first and only, and our encounters were infrequent. It’s hard to get in the mood when the guy starts saying, ‘If you loved me, you’d be able to orgasm,’ and ‘You’re thinking about Dominic, aren’t you? I see the way you look at him.’
Then, there was the silent treatment. The yelling that the least I could’ve done was fake it and hide that I was defective. And then he walked out because I caused him to lose his erection.
After the fourth time, I feigned illness. My period. Cramps. Digestive issues. Headaches. A test I needed to study for. Just about anything to keep from having sex with him. By the time I caught him cheating on me, I was relieved to have an out.
“No, I’m in my car.” She pauses for a second and then says, “Well, the windows are down, and there’s a guy parked beside me.”
“Perfect,” I groan and roll my eyes as Professor Peterson tips his head toward me and slips into the room. Like the other students, he fits the part by wearing black pants, a white button-down long-sleeved shirt, and a black sweater vest with a textbook tucked under his arm.
“It’s fine. He’s not listening. Oops.” She giggles until she snorts. “He’s listening.”
“Roll up the windows.” I glance at my watch. Five minutes until class starts.
“Fine,” she grumbles, but the sounds of the engine starting, and the window closing follow her agreement. “So, what happened?”
“Dominic got into a texting war with Brock and demanded he leave me alone.”
“That’s….” There’s a pause before she says, “Nice? Yes, that was nice of him.”
“Yes, it was nice.” Heat settles in my core. Stop. Don’t start weaving silly little girl fantasies about him.
“It sounds like he took a bigger interest in the situation than a brothers’ best friend response.”
“I think he has a new girlfriend. A woman named Rissa, with whom he works. He was going on and on about her to Ben. It was crystal clear that he’s infatuated with her and thinks she’s amazing.”
“I’m sorry. I always hoped the two of you would date. But maybe it’s time for you to let me set you up with one of the guys at the gym.” Her current job is as a receptionist for a gym in the city.
“I’m fine.” The door closes as the last student flies inside. “I’ve got to get to class. I’ll talk to you later.”
The second the phone clicked in my ear; I remembered Jake showing up. I groan as I shove my phone into my back pocket. I meant to ask her if she knew he was back in town and how we were going to break the news to Emily.