Chapter 9
SUMMER
October passes by in a blur with Asher purposefully avoiding me whenever he can.
Which is a hard task to accomplish, considering he has to teach the class I’m taking five times a week.
However, he’s trying his best. If I show up at the bar and he’s already there, he closes his tab and promptly leaves.
If he arrives and sees me there, he gets one beer and drinks it as fast as he can without raising an alarm and heads out.
Who knew that one hot make-out session would turn everything upside down?
I doubt Halloween will be any different, which is fine by me. I won’t be leaving, and if he would prefer to find another bar or to sit at home alone instead of inhabiting the same public space as me, that’s his own choice.
Halloween is my favorite holiday, and Sam and I always celebrate it the same way each year.
By dressing up and entering The Pour House’s costume contest while participating in their Halloween movie trivia night.
Sam and I always dress in matching costumes, but this year he invited Derek to join us.
So, we are going as the Scarecrow, the Tin Man, and the Lion from The Wizard of Oz.
It had been Sam’s idea, and he had immediately claimed the Lion, and Derek had offered to take the Tin Man so that I wouldn’t have to paint my face silver. Which is why I am now sitting on Sam’s bed as he carefully draws a stitched smile on either side of the corners of my lips.
I try to stretch my back, and Sam swats me. “Be still,” he chides.
I groan. “This corset was cuter when it wasn’t compressing all my organs.”
The corset is dark brown, and Sam had sewn orange and yellow patches on it. I wear a matching dark brown silk skirt that falls to my ankles with a high slit up one side. A floppy scarecrow hat and black knee-high boots complete the outfit.
Derek waltzes in when Sam moves on to painting orange circles on my cheeks. “Did I miss any skin?” he asks as he turns in a circle.
He’s wearing metallic silver pants and a mesh long-sleeved shirt. He had taken up the entire bathroom space to paint his face, arms, and torso silver. I see that he also added a red heart to his chest, a nice touch.
I shake my head. “You look silver to me.”
Sam grabs my chin. “I swear to God, Summer.” He finally frees me after slapping black lipstick on my lips to match the stitching he’d drawn.
Sam had finished his own makeup ages ago, and now he pulls on a fluffy lion’s mane. “I will fight these judges if we don’t win this year,” he huffs.
“You can beat them with this goddamned corset,” I moan as I stand and finally stretch out my aching spine.
“You don’t think we’ll be docked points for not having a Dorothy?” Derek asks. “Doesn’t the group feel incomplete?”
“Don’t start,” I say, rolling my eyes.
“I told Summer to ask the attractive boy who jumped at the chance of being her partner in class, but she refused,” Sam sniffs.
“We’re just partners for our midterm,” I insist as we make our way toward the door. “Presentations are due before Thanksgiving break, and besides going to the library together, we really haven’t hung out.”
“You still should’ve asked.”
I bite back a snappy retort as we arrive at the car. We clamber inside cautiously due to Sam’s threats about getting any makeup on his seats.
“So if you didn’t want to ask that guy,” Derek says, craning his neck to look at where I sit in the backseat. “Is there anyone else you would’ve asked?” He raises a suggestive eyebrow at me.
Sam’s eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror, and he smirks. I sneer at him, but Derek continues staring me down, waiting. I sigh. “No. I’m not really into dating right now.”
Derek purses his lips. “Not ‘dating’ as in serious relationships? Or casually sleeping with people.”
I shrug. “Either.”
Derek gives Sam an incredulous look. Sam puts his hands up in response. “Oh, I know,” he snorts. “Trust me when I say this conversation is a losing battle.”
I scoff. “It’s not the end of the world.”
“I just think you’d be a happier person if you got laid every once in a while,” Sam points out.
“I’m pretty sure it’s good for your health,” Derek adds.
“I’m sure you’re both getting laid enough for all three of us,” I grumble, thoroughly embarrassed. Neither of them responds, but both exchange knowing looks.
I spend the remainder of the car ride listening to the two flirt with each other and discussing what movies they might’ve picked for trivia this year.
I notice Asher is at his typical table near the pool tables, but instead of the usual friends he’s normally here with, there’s a stunning woman by his side. She’s in tight black latex, with a tail and ears. Of course, his date is a sexy cat.
Is he on a date? Is that the type of girl he normally goes for?
I know it’s wrong to compare yourself to other women, but I can’t help but notice our differences.
She has smooth, perfect, dark-tanned skin and beautiful black curls that fall to her shoulders.
She’s clearly a bit older than me and has a body that gives off the appearance that she lives at the gym.
I shake my head and try to stop staring at her. I’ll just spiral if I think too hard about how different we are.
At least they’re not in matching costumes. Asher is in his regular clothes, black slacks, and a suit jacket with a white button-up underneath. I resist the urge to scoff. Of course, he refused to dress up.
He kisses me in an elevator, then avoids me, and then brings a girl to the bar he knows we both frequent? Maybe I have no right to be upset about it. But did he have to bring her here?
My frustration continues to rise during trivia, which flies by amid arguments between Sam and Derek, who never seem to agree on the same answer.
We come in third and are awarded a twenty-five-dollar bar credit.
Sam uses the credit to get all three of us a lemon drop shot, and all the while, I can feel Asher’s gaze on me.
After downing the shot, I let my eyes travel across the room and stop on Asher, who is staring at me in return.
It’s closer to glaring, really. He doesn’t wave or smile or acknowledge me in any friendly manner.
The woman beside him is chattering away, not seeming to notice that he’s hardly paying attention to her.
A sick sense of satisfaction rolls across me, promptly followed by guilt.
I raise an eyebrow at him, and he slowly gives his attention back to the woman he’s with.
“You think you can get that guy to buy you a drink?” Derek laughs, drawing me away from any inappropriate thoughts involving my professor.
“Oh, I know I can,” Sam shoots back with a flirty smile.
Sam gives a jerk of his chin at someone across the bar. I follow the gesture and see a cute guy dressed as Buzz Lightyear waving at us.
Derek’s eyes scan the bar before landing on a girl dressed as a devil who, true to her costume, gives him a fiendish smile. “If he buys you a drink before she buys me one, I’ll pick up tonight’s tab,” Derek offers as he points out a girl dressed as a ballerina.
“Done,” Sam snorts with a cocky grin plastered across his face.
They both head off toward their respective conquests, with whom they have no real intention of pursuing, leaving me alone. “Alright,” I murmur. “I’ll just be here then.”
I finish off my apple martini and grumpily pop the slim green apple slice into my mouth as I wonder how long I’ll have to wait here before I can make a polite excuse to go home and free myself from this godawful corset.
Hopefully, as soon as they announce the winner of best costume, I can catch an Uber home.
I look over and notice that Ash—Professor Stirling—is still chatting with that beautiful woman. She’s turned even more toward him, and her knee presses against his thigh while his arm drapes over the back of her chair. He says something close to her ear, and she laughs.
Ugly jealousy pools in my stomach like acid.
Before I can let that feeling fester, someone slips into the seat next to me. I look up and see that Matt has joined me.
“I’ve been waiting for your friend to leave all night so that I could come over here and offer to buy you a drink,” he grins, showing off blindingly white teeth.
His dirty-blonde hair is parted to the side, clean-cut, and slicked down with gel.
Light blue eyes stare back at me. He’s Maverick from Top Gun.
Not that original, but the costume does show off his strong shoulders.
He’s cute. Not as cute as…
Nope, I am not going there.
A small smile plays across my lips. “You could’ve come over despite Sam being here.” I nod toward the corner where Sam is still flirting with the guy who waved him over. “The guy who got his attention sure didn’t mind my presence.”
He puts a hand to his chest and bows his head in mock shame. “Some men are braver than I.”
I giggle, and out of the corner of my eye, I see that the noise catches Asher’s attention. It may or may not cause me to bat my eyelashes at Matt.
“So.” He smiles and puts his arm around the back of my chair, very similar to how Asher has been sitting with his date. He leans in closer, and I see Asher straighten up, removing his arm from around the woman beside him. “Can I buy you a drink? Or are we strictly class partners?”
I nod. “I’ll allow it.”
“What’s your poison?”
“I’ll take an apple martini.”
“You got it,” he says before he gets up and saunters to the bar to order us a round.
I glance over to see Asher still staring at me.
I give him a little wave of my fingers, and he grits his teeth in response.
If he wants to get a rise out of me, he’ll be disappointed.
If he wants to bring a girl here and flirt with her, then I can certainly flirt with whomever I want.
One kiss in an elevator does not a couple make.