Hate to Date You (Dating #4) - Monica Murphy Page 0,16
drop my beer mug. I send her a look, one that I’m hoping says are you freaking kidding me? But her expression remains annoyingly neutral so clearly my facial communication is lacking.
“Why in the world would you say that?” I ask, keeping my voice as even as possible. I set the mug back on the table, not even wanting to attempt to lift it. It’s heavy, and my hand’s gotten shaky, and I didn’t want anyone to see how her words affected me.
“Oh, I don’t know. There was a time about a year ago, I think, when we were all at Tuscany.”
Unease slithers down my spine and I remain quiet. The rest of the table is quiet too, all of them waiting for Sarah to continue.
“We were having some sort of get together. Every single one of you was there,” Sarah points out, her gaze landing on Amelia. “Even you.” Since Amelia was always with her shitty boyfriend and he never let her go anywhere with us, this was a big deal.
“Anyway, we were all drinking lots of wine and eating lots of delicious food and there was this weird energy going on.” Now Sarah is watching me, her gaze narrowed.
“What type of weird energy?” Eleanor asks breathlessly.
I wish I could kick Eleanor, but she’s not sitting right next to me and I don’t want to risk kicking someone else by accident.
“Sexual energy. Chemistry. And it was happening between her.” Sarah points at me. “And Carter.”
The entire table launches into conversation, so many things being said at once, I can only catch snippets.
“…he’s so attractive.”
“Stella wouldn’t—”
“No freaking way!”
“I wouldn’t touch that with a ten-foot pole.”
That last bit was from me. Of course.
They’re all looking at me, some of them with disbelief, Eleanor with hope, and Sarah with a yeah, right expression on her face.
“Who even says that?” Amelia asks no one in particular. “‘I wouldn’t touch that with a ten-foot pole.’ What does that even mean? And again, who says that sort of thing?”
“It means exactly what it says,” I explain slowly. “And my father always used to say that expression. I think that’s why I say it now.”
“Huh.” Amelia appears stumped.
“I’m not done with my story,” Sarah declares, and all eyes are on her once again. The loud TVs, the people talking all around us, all of it fades into a dull murmur as I concentrate on Sarah, fear rendering me quiet. I don’t want to know what she says next. I’m scared of it. Did she…oh God.
Did she see us?
“Please continue,” Eleanor says eagerly.
“At one point, our lovely Stella said she had to use the restroom. I asked if she wanted me to go with her and she said no, she’d be fine.” One delicate brow lifts, and I refuse to look at my too observant friend.
All of them make a little noise that is partially judgmental, I can tell. Women go to bathrooms in packs when they’re all out together. It’s just…that’s how it’s done. I don’t know why, I don’t know who started this thing, but we’ve always done it. Whether it’s just two of us in a giant bathroom with lots of stalls or six of us crammed into one tiny room with a single toilet and a constantly dripping sink that’s rust stained, we go together.
“Within a minute of her leaving the table, Carter left as well. Said he had to use the john, and I quote.”
I almost roll my eyes. He says the stupidest shit. John. Crib. Who is he?
“See, here’s the weird thing.” Sarah leans over the table, and everyone else leans toward her, including myself. I want to hear what she has to say, even though I actually don’t. She knows. Somehow, she knows Carter and I hooked up in that damn stupid bathroom, and I can’t believe she’s been holding onto this for an entire year. “Stella was gone for a long time. At least…fifteen minutes.”
Shit, really?
“And Carter was gone for just as long. She came back to the table first and appeared perfectly normal, if a bit buzzed, but she left the table in that state, so that wasn’t unusual. Her cheeks were a little flushed, but at the time, I blamed that on the alcohol,” Sarah says.
How does she remember all of this with such vivid detail?
“Then Carter reappeared, and as he walked past Stella, he—touched her. It was very subtle. If I hadn’t been so suspicious, I would’ve never noticed.”