My One Night: An On My Own Novel Page 6

  I honestly didn’t have time for jealousy or whatever the hell Jeff’s problem might be, but it was nice to see Mandy happy. I had honestly liked her. We hadn’t parted on particularly bad terms, even though I hadn’t been too pleased by the way she saw me. But we hadn’t fought or gotten angry with each other. It had just ended.

  She had probably been the most serious girlfriend I had ever had, and that was a sad state of affairs if that was the case. I didn’t have time to dwell on that, though. Between working at the bar on the nights and weekends I could, school, and figuring out my new way of life because I’d changed universities, I didn’t have time for a relationship at all.

  At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.

  When I finally walked in, I saw Pacey at the coffee shop, sitting at a small table in the corner as he typed on his laptop. The place was huge, three stories, and had tons of space for people to work. The second and third floors were a little quieter than the first, and Pacey was currently on the second, focusing on his course load. The campus had hundreds of places to get work done, and we had a decent house, too, but I knew that Pacey had class in thirty minutes so it only made sense that he would try and get some work done closer to his lecture.

  I picked up my coffee, headed upstairs, and cleared my throat near his table.

  Pacey looked up and smiled. “Hey there, Dillon. Take a seat.”

  I gave him a small nod, smiled, and then sat across from him. “Thanks, I was going to ask.”

  “You could have just sat down. I might’ve growled at you, though. Because, damn it, this paper sucks.”

  “When’s it due?”

  Pacey looked at me and shrugged. “In three days. And we’re turning it in online, so at least I don’t have to print it out, but it’s still pissing me off.”

  “What’s it for?”

  “My government and politics class. It’s ridiculous, and they want us to take a both-sides observation approach.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m not even from America. I don’t know why I have to learn all this rubbish.”

  I laughed. “I’m pretty sure most Americans say the same thing. And wasn’t your mom American?”

  “Yes, but she raised me with my father across the pond. So, here we are.”

  “You’ve been here for a few years now, right?” I added, enjoying poking fun at him.

  “You’re not helping the situation.”

  “And wait, aren’t you a dual citizen?” I asked, and Pacey flipped me off.

  “You’re not being a very good mate. I want to lament over this paper, and you’re not helping.”

  “I can help you lament over the assignment and the fact that we have to do any work at all since we’re tired, but I will mention the fact that you should probably learn a few things about the country, especially since you’re a dual citizen.”

  “Believe me, I know enough,” he said dryly, and then leaned back against his chair and smiled. “So, are we ever going to talk about what happened a few nights ago?” he asked, and I sighed.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, lying.

  “You’re a terrible liar. How is Elise?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, suddenly uncomfortable. “I haven’t texted her.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t think she wants me to,” I replied.

  “I think you should at least text her to see if she’s okay.”

  “Why wouldn’t she be?” I leaned forward, slightly alarmed. “Did you hear something?”

  Pacey sighed and closed his laptop. “I didn’t hear anything, but she seems like a nice girl. Smart, funny, and not an asshole. You should talk with her.”

  “She didn’t want anything beyond what we had last night.”

  “Texting doesn’t necessarily have to change that. She could be your friend. I’m just saying.”

  “There’s nothing just about it,” I mumbled.

  “Text her,” he pushed.

  I pulled out my phone and sighed. “What do I say?”

  “You know, I usually start with something like…hello. Although texting doesn’t get my winning accent, so then I have to add a very stereotypical ‘love’ or other things to it so they’re reminded I have this sexy British poshness.”

  I met his gaze and laughed. The table next to me shushed me, and I winced.

  “You’re going to get me into trouble,” I whispered.

  “You say that. Or am I going to push you into a situation that you’ll love?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Excuse me?

  “I’ve met your brothers and your sisters-in-law. They all mentioned that you are the family’s touchstone when it comes to relationships and communication. Funny how you can’t seem to take your own advice. So, here I am, throwing it back in your face.”

  “I don’t think I like you right now,” I mumbled, looking down at my phone.

  “I don’t think you have to,” he said, laughing. “Text her.”

  I sighed. “Okay. But only because you’re forcing me.”

  “Whatever it takes,” he said with a laugh.

  Me: Hi.

  “Hi? That’s all you’re going to say?” Pacey asked quietly.

  I scowled at the other man. “Give me a second. I thought I was better at this.”

  “We all thought you were.”

  Elise: I’m headed to class soon. Is everything okay?

  I winced. “This sucks. I’m really not good at this.”

  “Maybe tell her that. Not me. She can’t hear you. Hence why you’re texting.”

  We were whispering, but the table next to us kept glowering. I lowered my head and began typing again.

  Me: I have class again too. I was just getting coffee with Pacey. Anyway, I’m at our coffee shop and thought of you.

  That made me smile. Our coffee shop. That was nice. Not creepy. Right?

  Elise: I just missed you then. I needed more caffeine to focus today.

  Me: That’s what I was thinking. I had the most boring lecture ever, and now I have to go to an accounting class that’s already making my head hurt.

  Elise: I thought you were good at accounting.

  Me: I am, but the class is hard.

  Elise: They’re going to get harder as we move on.

  Me: That’s so helpful.

  Elise: That’s me, a ray of bright sunshine. Hey, I’ve got to go. But thanks for texting.

  Elise: It was nice to hear from you.

  My heart warmed, and I let out a breath.

  I knew Pacey was looking at me, but I ignored him.

  Me: Maybe we can get coffee sometime.

  Elise didn’t text for long enough that I was afraid I’d fucked up.

  Elise: Maybe. I think I’d like that. I really have to go now. I’m not ignoring you. Promise.

  I smiled, and Pacey let out a slow chuckle. I flipped him off and ignored him.

  Me: Have fun in class, if you can. I’ll talk to you soon. Promise.

  Elise: Okay. Sounds good. Bye, Dillon.

  Me: Bye, Elise.

  I set down my phone, and Pacey sipped the last of his coffee, grinning at me. “Told you.”

  “I hate you sometimes,” I grumbled.

  But that was a lie. I didn’t hate him. I just didn’t know if I owed him yet or not.

  Chapter 6

  Elise

  * * *

  I was flirting with Dillon Connolly. That was probably a mistake, but I couldn’t help myself. And I was doing it by text as if we hadn’t said that it would just be the one night. But I really couldn’t help it. I was enjoying myself. I was enjoying him.

  I looked down at my phone and grinned, laughing at the silly meme he’d sent. It made no sense that I would be laughing so much when it came to him. I shouldn’t be, but he made me smile. However, it was a delusion. I couldn’t let myself want him more than I already did. We hadn’t even seen each other since I ran from his house—and that wasn’t even an exaggeration. I’d run from him and any future desi
res he may spark.

  It made no sense that I was talking to him now, and yet, here I was, looking down at a text from him, my lips still twitching.

  “Is that Dillon again?” Corinne asked, a smile on her face.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, and she just laughed.

  “You say that, and yet I think it’s him. And I think you’re happy.”

  “Stop,” I said.

  “Stop what?” Nessa asked as she made her way into the room.

  “Elise wants me to stop acting like this is normal,” Corinne said, and I blinked.

  “What? What do you mean by normal? Are you saying I’m abnormal?”

  “Keep pretending that you don’t want to get to know Dillon. That you don’t want to see him again. Just sit there texting him and not talk to us about it.” She mock pouted, and I chucked a throw pillow at her again.

  “Will you please stop tossing throw pillows?” Natalie said as she made her way into the living room, a charcuterie board in her hands. “They might have the word throw in the title, but that’s not a direction. More an idea.”

  I stood up and cleared off the coffee table so she could set the tray down. Nessa gave me a grateful smile and placed it in front of us. The large wood board was filled with four types of cheese, two kinds of meat, various nuts, peppers, olives, pepperoncinis, and a few other yummy things. My mouth watered, and I knew I was about to chow down on one of my favorite meals. I’d grown up on cheese and crackers, and now I got to play with the seemingly grown-up version.

  “Ladies, she is texting with Dillon and not telling us about it,” Corinne said, pouting again.

  “For shame,” Natalie said with a laugh.

  “You know the rules,” Nessa added. “You like a boy, you fuck the boy. You text the boy afterward. Then, you tell your friends. It’s one of the commandments of living with us.”

  “I wasn’t aware there were commandments for this situation,” I said dryly.

  “Now you know,” Nessa said. “And if I ever have sex again, you can make sure I’ll follow them, too.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I don’t know why you said it like that. Besides, I’m never having sex again with Dillon, so it’s a moot point.”

  Corinne sighed. “Is it? Or are you just planning to pretend that you’re never going to sleep with him again? Because you’re texting him, even after you said you wouldn’t see him anymore.”

  “I haven’t seen him,” I said, wincing.

  “Well, texting is close enough. Unless he sent you dick pics. That would count as seeing him.” Nessa paused. “Has he sent you dick pics?”

  “I want to know, too. And if he has, why haven’t you shared?” Corinne said with a laugh.

  “First, no, ew. And if Dillon were sending me dick pics, I wouldn’t share them with you.”

  “Spoilsport,” Corinne said, shaking her head. “But I’m glad you didn’t. He wouldn’t have consented to that, and that would be rude.”

  “More than rude. But no, no dick pics. Thank God.”

  “Oh, is there something wrong with his dick?” Nessa asked, her eyes filled with laughter.

  I flipped her off and took a cracker with cheese and a little mustard. “There is nothing wrong with Dillon’s dick, and I’m not talking about this anymore.”

  Corinne grinned. “You say that, and yet I have a feeling I can get you to speak. In detail.”

  “Anyway, what did he text you if it wasn’t a pic of his dick?” Natalie asked, leaning forward to look at my phone on the table.

  “It went back to a blank screen,” I said dryly. They couldn’t see what was on my cell. My three friends looked at me, and I sighed.

  “All it was, was a stupid meme. It was funny and reminded him of a conversation we had, I guess.”

  “Oh, that’s so sweet. You guys are sharing memes and having conversations. And not sleeping together. Everything you’re doing can be part of a relationship,” Natalie added. “A true one based on the foundation of trust.”

  “Or it could just be that we’re texting because we’re bored, and it’s nice to have someone to talk to when we’re thinking about coffee,” I stated.

  The three girls laughed. “Sure, whatever you say. However, we all know that you don’t text randomly. There’s got to be something there.”

  I cringed. “There can’t be. I’m focusing on school. Dillon has school and work and a huge family. There’s no time for things like a relationship or anything we could have together on top of that for him. Or me. He’s a nice guy, and maybe we can be friends. But that’s it.”

  “You know, those are famous last words,” Corinne said dryly.

  I grimaced. “Maybe, but they won’t be my last words.”

  “You totally just jinxed yourself,” Nessa added, taking a bite of a pepperoncini. She scrunched her eyes and winced. “Oh, those are spicier than I remember,” she said.

  Natalie shrugged. “We accidentally bought the hot kind rather than the medium or mild. I didn’t even know there were different heat variances with a jar of pepperoncini.”

  “Well, now my mouth is on fire,” Nessa said, drinking a glass of water. Her eyes watered, and she cursed. “Now I need milk. Or bread or something.”

  “We have little crostinis here. Try that.”

  I handed her the breadbasket, and she took a big bite of a crostini and sighed. “I am such a wimp.”

  “Maybe, but we love you.”

  “You’re a jerk,” she said, and I smiled.

  “I could be, but it’s fun to tease you after you’ve been teasing me for most of this conversation.”

  “We love you, and you seem happy when you’re texting Dillon. We just want to know what’s going on.”

  “Nothing is going on. We’re just texting. Like friends. People do that.”

  “Maybe, but you’ve never done it before.”

  “It’s just that’s not what Dillon and I agreed to. It may be construed as flirting, but we’re busy. It’s only texting. I text all of you guys, and none of you expect me to sleep with you.”

  “And it’s a great shame that we haven’t yet,” Natalie said dryly, and I laughed, surprised.

  “You are gorgeous. I’m just saying,” Corinne said, batting her eyelashes. “I do find it odd that we haven’t slept together. I mean, we’ve known each other forever. It’s only natural that we would turn from friends to lovers.”

  I scrunched up my nose and filled my plate with cheese and other goodies. “You guys are such jerks,” I said.

  Natalie smiled softly. “Maybe, but we’re your jerks. You love us.”

  My phone buzzed, and everyone looked down at it. I let out a breath and read the name on the screen. “It’s just my mom. Not Dillon.” They all leaned back in their chairs, disappointment on their faces. “I love my mom. She’s allowed to call and text me. Don’t look so sad.”

  Corinne pouted. “We just wanted it to be Dillon.”

  “I was just texting Dillon, and he’s working. He’s not going to want to text me at all hours of the night.”

  Natalie gave a dreamy sigh. “He should. You guys are so cute together.”

  “You haven’t even seen me with him,” I said dryly.

  “Maybe not, but Corinne said you guys were adorable. I don’t see what the problem is.”

  “The problem is, we are just texting. Like people do. It doesn’t mean we’re going to sleep together again.” For some reason, voicing that annoyed me, urging me to the edge of sadness. I hated that feeling, so I ignored it. I simply looked down at my phone and read the text message.

  Mom: Will you be coming over for dinner this weekend? We have a few things to talk about. And your father and I would like to discuss your grades.

  I crossed my eyes and groaned.

  “Your parents wanting to talk about your grades with you like you’re in middle school again?” Corinne asked, taking a sip of her soda.

  “Yes. I don’t know when they’re going t
o realize that they don’t need to know everything I’m doing.”

  “They will never get that. Not if you keep letting them butt in.”

  I narrowed my eyes at Corinne. “I do not let them.”

  “Yes, you do. All the time. You probably planned to go over there and show them your grades so you didn’t have to deal with confrontation.”

  “I’m not a pushover.”

  “No, you’re not. Which is why I don’t get why you do everything your parents say. Even if it doesn’t make sense.”

  “It’s not like that.”

  “It seems like it,” Corinne said, shrugging.

  Natalie leaned forward. “I don’t know your parents, and mine are always checking on me. They’re even more overprotective than yours.”

  I shook my head. “My parents aren’t overprotective in what I’m doing outside of school. They just want me on a set path, and since I’m not exactly going down that path, they want to know every little thing. I got a full-ride here, and I’ve been paying for school. The student loan I got pays for rent and food. Therefore, they don’t have to give me any money.”

  “You’re right. That means you don’t owe them anything but your love and appreciation,” Corinne added.

  “Maybe, but I still want to make them proud. It’s stupid.”

  My phone buzzed again.

  Mom: I hope you’re studying and not just ignoring me. We need to discuss your future. We can’t do that if you’re not telling us everything.

  I sighed and began typing.

  Me: Sunday works. However, I would only like to come for dinner if that’s okay. Grades aren’t even final yet.

  I hadn’t meant to add that part. I didn’t need to qualify what I was doing. But she was my mom, and I hated disappointing her.

  Mom: We’ll see you Sunday. Bring your grades.

  I sighed, knowing she would ignore me. She was good at that.

  “Sunday dinner with a report card?” Corinne asked dryly.

  “That’s what we do.”

  “Whatever you say,” Corinne said, and Nessa and Natalie shared a look. I had been friends with Natalie for a few years, Nessa since we started college, but they didn’t understand the dynamics between my mother and me like Corinne did. Not that Corinne or I understood what my mother wanted. Other than for us to do exactly what she desired.