Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CASS
Date 6
Alright Lucky Charms, how’d it go
You might think a date with an actuary would be boring, and you’d be right!
Date 7
reporting in
Who was tonight’s sacrificial lamb?
The only thing we had in common was we agreed low waisted jeans should never have made a comeback
He’s not wrong
Not enough to base a relationship off of, though
You’re not seeing him again, are you? That’s against the rules
No sir
Date 8
Nice guy, but no. Prob could be friends?
He talked about Pokémon cards the entire time
I appreciate the passion, but not my kink
Back all the way up
What’s your kink?
Damn you, autocorrect!
What was that autocorrecting from?
????
Date 9
Well?
You sent me on a date WITH MY HIGH SCHOOL HISTORY TEACHER!!
That was beyond weird!!
Like weird-weird or kinky-weird?
Don’t make me block you
What’s your kink?
You’ll tell me eventually
Date 10
If this guy was a spice, he would be flour Gluten-free
Are you still on the date?
Unfortunately yes
What has less flavour than vanilla?
Noted, you want spice, I’ll change my strategy
I am suddenly very, very nervous
So I make you nervous?
omg
“Ten down, twenty to go.” Libby shook her newly fire-engine red hair away from her mouth as she wrapped an extension cord. “Any winners?”
“No, but that’s not the point of this. I’m trying to get over someone, not land a new someone, remember?”
The happy sounds of muffled eating and buzz saws filled the crowded set. Libby and Cass stood at the craft services tent for a long overdue lunch, watching Josh and Brynne arguing, as usual. As long as Josh wasn’t yelling at anyone besides Brynne, no one worried. Brynne gave as good as she got.
And the sourdough was worth listening to the yelling.
Cass munched on her sandwich, watching them out of the corner of her eye. Josh stood with his arms crossed tight over his chest, biceps straining at the sleeves of the worn black tee shirt. He leaned in, stabbing his finger in the direction of something out of Cass’s sightline. Brynne flipped her perfectly blown out chestnut waves over her shoulder to follow where he was pointing and turned back with a knowing smile.
That wasn’t a flirty smile, was it? Brynne wasn’t a flirty person. Probably just leaning in because it was loud on set.
Cass shivered, searching for something polite to say about the five most recent snooze fests that were supposedly dates she’d gone on in the last two weeks. “Nice guys, but kind of flat. ”
“Like they were actually nice guys, or the ‘I’m a Nice Guy and the chicks who aren’t into me are crazy bitches’ kind of nice guys?” she asked, making scare quotes to emphasize her point.
“The former. Not incels or anything,”
“So, no love for Team Vanilla?”
“Do I look like I want to be barefoot with an apron on?”
Of the two of them, Libby was the one with her biological clock hammering away. Nothing wrong with dads-in-training, just not for her. The thought of being locked behind a white picket fence with two-point-four kids made Cass die inside.
“Maybe if the apron was the only thing you’re wearing, with cut-outs for your tits and the strings tied around your wrists?”
“You’re not wrong,” Cass muttered. “ But I don’t think any of those guys would have been into that.”
Each date had been … nice. The actuary had a name, she was sure, but she had to look at his coffee cup where the barista had written his name on it four times, and it still hadn’t sunk in. She’d gotten wrapped up in Pokémon Go as much as the next person a few years back, but not enough to dedicate her precious days off to it, like date number eight had. Two of the men had been so dull that she wondered if she had fallen asleep with her eyes open. Her high school history teacher—which was the only thing she could ever see him as, even if they’d hit it off—had baby fever so hot she half expected him to whip out a thermometer to check if she was ovulating.
“Mr. Schmidt, I mean Derek—god, that was weird—I swear he was thinking birthing hips when he checked out my butt instead of I want to hit that from behind . Not that I would with him because all I could think of was how I always fell asleep in his class. I felt like a breeding heifer.”
It had been the least sexy date she’d ever been on. Including the tropical fish fiasco.
Libby snickered, then asked, “Have you heard from him again?”
No need to ask who the him in question was .
Cass shook her head, eyes down, and crammed her sandwich into her mouth to prevent her from saying something stupid. It had been almost a month and a half since she’d heard from Nick, which wasn’t unusual. They’d always run hot and cold. She was a little relieved. And not as disappointed as she usually was.
“Do you know if he tried to talk to Alex?”
The delicious sourdough went dry in her mouth. When her teeth had pulverized the bread into submission, she swallowed and said, “I don’t know. We didn’t do much talking.”
Which had been her problem with him all along.
“You’re smart. You’re pretty. You’re funny,” Libby chided, “so I don’t understand why you slept with Nick again.”
“Because every time he twitches a finger at me, I can feel the feminism fleeing my body.”
And because it had been months since she’d had an orgasm without Chauncy. Maybe Josh was right and she should invest in a stronger model. Heat surged in her chest and she stifled the flutter. She hadn’t let Libby in on any of those details. Nor had she breathed a word to Jill that she’d seen Nick.
Not telling her oldest bestie about flirty exchanges with hot guys? Not telling her newest bestie that her mortal enemy was back in town? When had she started keeping secrets?Cass hid her face in her hands.
Libby pursed her lips. “Why didn’t you block him? Addicts need to remove the temptation.”
“I’m not addicted.”
“Honey,” Libby said, exasperated. “You are jonesing for a fix so hard right now!”
“I’m going cold turkey.” Or something . Cass sighed, picking at the last bits of sandwich.
“Or you could lose yourself in a pair of sexy dimples and see if that makes you forget what’s-his-nuts?”
“Elizabeth!” Cass huffed. The last thing she needed was to throw herself at Josh. Drowning in that smile had been a one-time ride, e ven if she’d loved making him laugh and turning his glower into a wicked grin.
The photo shoot had been the most fun she’d had in months. The music, the laughter. The photos he showed her later. Every shot had been beautiful. She had felt beautiful. Seen.
Right up until she was sure he was going to kiss her. His eyes on her lips, leaning in like he couldn’t help himself. She could almost feel his mouth on hers, her pulse thudding in her throat, until he shut down without warning.
Pretending for weeks that his rejection hadn’t hurt had been exhausting.
Josh still stood huddled with Brynne, their faces serious and quiet now, standing so close to talk over the noise on set.
Cass stared down at her sensible support shoes. “No, I’m not getting involved with anyone on set, especially him.”
“Oh come on. The way he looks at you? Dawson would fall over himself to spend five minutes with you.”
Cass looked at her blankly. Dawson? He was looking at her in a way? She swivelled her head to look for the towering Tennessean, finding him leaning against a table with his eyes trained on her. He nodded his head, a shy smile spreading dimples to his cheeks.
Oh. Dimples checking her out.
Cass swallowed an unexpected lump of disappointment. Part of the appeal of no second dates was not getting hung up on one person, especially now with filming picking up. She managed a smile back and turned to Libby, who was standing up and brushing her dusty hands on her coveralls.
“I’m sticking to the plan. Ten down and twenty to go,” Cass said. “Nothing serious, no Nick, and no distractions.”
No distractions meant no heartache. From any bearer of sexy dimples.
Costume wasn’t needed on set for the last shots of the day, so she pulled her things out of her locker and popped a piece of cinnamon gum to chase the last of her coffee breath away. Josh and Brynne h ad disappeared. Maybe they were done discussing the scene. Maybe they went somewhere more private.
They were both hot as hell, working closely together. Both were single, as far as she knew. Why wouldn’t they? If she started counting on her fingers the number of times she’d been on a production where the director and lead actor hooked up, she’d run out of digits before she was halfway through the list. Cass shut her locker door with a quiet click.
Her phone buzzing in her purse provided a welcome distraction. For a minute.
Suzie. That meant one thing. Cass groaned.
“Hey girl! You free Friday night?”
Cass slumped against the locker. “What do you need, Suz?”
“We just got tickets to that play you were talking about last week and wanted to know if you could watch the girls?”
Musical theatre had been their thing: Suzie, Davie, and Cassie shrieking at their mom to put on her old records to sing along for hours when they were kids.
Why hadn’t Suzie invited her instead? Her brother-in-law couldn’t care less about musical theatre. His snores would drown out the orchestra by the intermission.
Not that she wouldn’t be excited to play with her favourite rugrats, but still … She had planned on going for drinks with some of her old theatre friends. Suzie didn’t have the most reliable babysitter, and Cass could always catch her crew next time.
“Of course,” Cass said, resigned.
“Oh, you’re the best!” Suzie squealed. “They’ll be so excited!”
Cass dialled up the brightest smile she could so her sister would hear it in her voice. “Can’t wait.”