Chapter 9
NINE
PAIGE
Kinsley and I walk down the steps of the last apartment building on our list for the day. The sun is out, shining happily in the sky but not really warming the air. We huddle into our sweatshirts and start the walk back to our cars.
“I’m glad we’re done for the day because it’s freaking cold,” she says, her breath billowing in the air.
“I would’ve been happier if we had found something. Those were all trash.”
She frowns. “Maybe you’ll have better luck tomorrow.”
We move down Magnolia Boulevard with much fewer hopes than we did when we walked up it a couple of hours ago. It turns out that a street with such a pretty name can, in fact, have terrible housing.
“Thank you for coming with me today,” I say.
“Of course. You’re entirely too wishy-washy to be left to your own devices. You’d rent an apartment because it has a cute wall but not bother to consider the size or proximity to laundry or stores. Or parking, for that matter.”
“I should’ve listened to you and just got a place on my own instead of bunking with Marcie. But she had all the furniture and pots and pans and life stuff. It was so much easier to do that.” I consider that. “Until now.”
She laughs.
“I just need a place before school starts. I need to be settled and ready to roll.”
“I’m still surprised at how that went down with Marcie.”
You and me both.
I shake my head. “I don’t know what to do. Like is our friendship over now? Is she just embarrassed? I have no idea.”
“She hasn’t called me either, and we always binge-watch a show on Thursdays. I texted her but got nothing back.”
We stop at a crosswalk. Kinsley pulls her phone out of her pocket and swipes across the screen.
“You doing okay at Nate’s?” she asks. “You didn’t text me a status update last night, so I assume you’re still in possession of your V-card.”
“Yeah.”
She laughs at the look on my face—one of sadness and despair.
Except that face is for her. Not me.
Every pause in a conversation today, each moment of silence has been filled with Nate.
I shiver at the memory of my finger in his mouth. The softness of his tongue, the warmth that traveled from his mouth all the way to the apex of my thighs.
Remembering the look in his eye—the look that contradicted the words he spoke as he left me in his kitchen in a pool of lust—sends a delicious chill down my spine.
“That’s the only time my mouth will get anywhere near you.”
I spent all night trying to figure that mess out. How can he look at me like that, touch me like that, and then come at me with that line?
When he told me that I had no idea what he was capable of, he might’ve been right.
“Are you all right?” Kinsley looks at me curiously. “You’re over there shivering. It’s not that cold.”
I haven’t told her about last night in the kitchen. I think it’ll come out wonky and not nearly as sexy as it was. So I decide to keep it to myself. Just for now. At least until I work out what it means … and doesn’t mean.
“So,” Kinsley says after we crossed the street, “are we one-wording answers about Nate? Or was that an anomaly?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I asked how things were going, and you said ‘yeah.’ You don’t give one-word answers to anything, so I’m trying to decide whether that’s because things are okay or if they’re not.”
We stop at the opening of the public parking area central to all the apartments we looked at today. The breeze catches my hair and whirls it around my head. I gather it at the crown and twist an elastic from my wrist around the locks.
Kinsley narrows her eyes. “So …”
“So …” I look at my car in the distance. “Things are fine so far. Great, actually.” Confusing, but great.
“Great, huh?”
“His kid is cute—”
“I didn’t know he hads a kid! Ew.”
I laugh. “Ryder is adorable and better behaved than that dog you had last year. He takes himself to the toilet, hasn’t stolen food out of my hand yet, and doesn’t whine.”
She cringes. “I’m so glad my dad fell in love with that dog because I couldn’t manage him. It was like having a baby, I think. He cried at night. Wanted up and down. Had to pee then didn’t. Then peed on the floor.” She shakes her head. “Nah, I’m good—with kids and dogs.”
“I love dogs. Kids? Eh. That’s case by case.”
“Anyway, you were saying his kid is cute when I cut you off.”
“Oh. Right. So yes, his kid is cute. Very well-behaved. Oh! He makes dinner with his kid. Dude, seeing him as a dad?” I place a hand on my heart and bite my lip. “Hot as fuck.”
“I’m not into the dad vibe, but I’m glad it’s working for you.”
“You’re not into the dad vibe? How?” My eyes bulge out. “What’s not hot about a big, strong guy being all tender and sweet to their child? That’s super hot.”
She nods like I’ve lost my mind. I shrug.
“I guess maybe I just look at the guys I sleep with and think, I hope you’re never my kids’ daddy.” She laughs. “That’s not funny, but it’s true. Men are great until they have to behave that way.”
“Maybe you need to hook up with better guys.”
“Oh, definitely, I do. For sure. One thousand percent. Just point me in the direction of where they hang out, and I’ll trot my ass down there and gather numbers. Hell, I’ll get you numbers too, and you can avoid the upstanding citizens you usually go out with.”
I give her a look.
“What? Do you enjoy getting all of your dates from the parole board?” she asks.
“You are not funny.”
“You’re right. I’m not because it’s no laughing matter.”
I roll my eyes, but we both know she’s onto something.
It’s not like I don’t know this about myself. I routinely pick guys I would never take home to my parents.
I know I do it, but I don’t know why. It’s a vicious cycle that I find myself in.
Do I want to pick the asshole that will inevitably treat me like a piece of shit and I’ll have to break up with him in some dramatic fashion?
No. No, I don’t.
Do I always seem to be in that situation?
Yes.
It’s maddening.
“Do you want to know why I think you do that?” she asks.
No. I just look at her.
“I think,” she says carefully, “that you intentionally go after men who you can’t see a future with. It’s as though you don’t want to risk giving someone your heart—apart from yours truly, of course—so … maybe so they can never truly hurt you? I don’t know. Just guessing.”
I laugh. “That’s crazy town. Why would I do that? Wouldn’t that be a complete waste of time?”
“Yup. Sure would.”
“You do it too. Why do you do it?”
She looks at me like I’m stupid. “Paige.”
My name as a whole sentence is never good.
“The guys I date aren’t anything like the guys you pluck out of the gutters,” she says. “No, I don’t want Derrick or Tom to be my baby’s daddy, but they never threaten to physically harm me.”
I point at her. “That was just Atticus, and Troy beat the shit out of him for that.”
“Okay, then let’s talk about Bobby and how you walked in on him having an orgy with three college girls.”
I glare at her.
“Do you see what I’m saying?” she asks. “I self-medicate with men. You self-sabotage. We aren’t the same.
” She wraps her arm around my shoulder. “I’m not saying I’m better than you because Lord knows that you are much less petty and unreasonable than I am.
But I do think you do this to yourself on purpose. ”
I want to be mad at her, but what would I be mad for? For telling the truth?
Her arm slips off my shoulders as we approach our cars. I don’t want her parting ways with me and thinking I’m upset. It’ll bother her all night.
“I should’ve just had sex with one of those guys,” I say, bracing myself for her reaction.
“What? How can you say that?”
I grin. “Why do I want to wait and let some guy I actually like—who deserves to take my virginity—ruin the experience? I should’ve ruined it with a loser, so the guy I actually like has a chance to beat that. That would’ve been nice of me.”
“Paige, good grief.” Kinsley laughs. “I love how romantic you are.”
“I’ve read enough on Reddit to know that I should go into a sexual encounter, especially my first, with super-low expectations.”
Kinsley’s laughter gets louder.
“I mean it!” My cheeks flush. “It seems like half of the population has wild, graphic, she’s getting choked, and he’s … you get the picture. And the other half is highly unsatisfied.”
I cross my arms, proud of my research.
“At least you’re informed, I guess,” she says with a laugh.
I wink at her, letting her know I’m just kidding. Kind of.
“I have to get home,” she says. “Maintenance is sending someone out this evening to check my vents because they’re not blowing any air. They keep telling me I have them closed, but I don’t. I’m not an idiot.”
I smile at her. “Have fun. Call me if you need my help. I don’t have a ladder, but I have a right cross.” I swing it in the air and laugh. “I learned this from Ryder.”
“You are getting so weird.”
“Bye. Be safe.”
“Love ya.”
“Love ya too, Kins.”
I climb into my car and lock the doors. But before I start the car and pull away, I grab my phone. There’s one unread text.
Mom: Maddox bought a 50 lb bag of birdseed. Why?
I snort.
Me: I have no idea. Did you ask him?
Mom: He gave me a bullshit answer about saving ducks.
Me: There are things in life you’re better off not knowing, Mom.
Mom: *grimacing emoji*
Me: Just finished looking for apartments. They all sucked. Trying again tomorrow.
Mom: How many did you look at?
Before I can answer her, another text comes through.
Maddox: You little tattletale.
Me: 50 lb bag of birdseed? Do I want to know?
Maddox: It’s probably better that you don’t. If Foxx brings this up, DEFLECT AND DENY.
Me: *laughing emoji*
I flip back to my chat with Mom.
Me: Four, I think. But I’m pulling out of the parking lot and no texting and driving.”
Mom: Love you. Bye. Don’t text back until you’re home.
I toss my phone in the cup holder and start the car.
My heart beats more rhythmically than it has in a while. I smile at my reflection in the rearview mirror and take off toward Nate’s—the one guy I’ve ever liked that’s not my type.
I wonder what that means.
Maybe that you know if you ever gave him your heart, he could hurt you.