get absorbed into a conversation with Tommy.
I guess Drew’s always good at hiding his real intentions.
Drew catches my eye and smiles, that ridiculous, lopsided smirk, and I look away before it can affect me.
I mean, it still affects me a little, but I tell myself I’m immune to it now. Getting so close to him in my bedroom was like getting exposed to chicken pox when you’re young, and now I can’t get it again.
Except that I just wrote an article about chicken pox, and I know that sometimes it comes back as shingles when you’re much older, but that’s not the point here.
When Tommy asks me for another coffee, I’m glad to go get it.
* * *
• • •
“Hey,” Drew says, sidling up to me as I attempt to open another phone charger for Tommy—the third one I’ve bought him, since he’s always losing his.
“Oh, hello,” I say, pretending that I’m running into a political canvasser whose opinion differs from mine, but I still have to be polite because we’re both human beings. See? Drew Danforth isn’t the only one who can act.
“This weather, huh?” He bumps his shoulder into mine.
“Please don’t use your impressive bulk to knock me over.” I try to focus on the phone charger, but it was pretty easy to open and doesn’t really require any more concentration. I wind the cord around my hand a few times, pretending that this is an important task.
“Whoa.” He reaches out and puts a hand on my arm so that I’m forced to stop wrapping the phone cord around my hand. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. What’s . . . going on?”
I turn to face him and raise my eyebrows. “What’s going on? Are you serious?”
His eyes search my face. “Annie, I—”
I hold up my hands. “Don’t say my name like that, okay? I just . . . obviously, this meant nothing to you. That . . . moment, or whatever, in my bedroom. Carrying me home. Being so nice to my uncle. It was all a game for you.”
Drew shakes his head slowly. His hand is still on my arm, so I pull away. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Have you checked Hollywood Gossip today?”
He snort-laughs. “I never check Hollywood Gossip for the same reason I don’t repeatedly hit my head against a brick wall.”
“Well then,” I say, vindicated, “I guess you missed the article about how you and Tarah are hooking up.”
His mouth drops open.
“And you thought I wouldn’t notice,” I continue. “You thought, ‘Oh, this little rube from Ohio won’t even know that I’m just flirting with her for fun.’”
“Annie.” Drew grabs both my arms now and leans down so he’s right in front of my face. “That’s not true. That’s . . . that’s all made up.”
“I broke up with Carter for you, you turd!” I whisper-shout, not wanting everyone nearby to hear us but also kind of wanting everyone nearby to hear us, so they’ll all know exactly what type of person Drew is.
“You—what? You broke up with Sexy Gaffer?” Drew’s mouth drops open and I hate to admit, even an expression of dopey surprise looks good on him.
“Like you even care, you asshole,” I hiss, and oh, this is satisfying. Really letting it rip, letting out all my frustration, using a few choice but still tame curse words because the movie of my life is destined to be PG-13, I guess.
“I care, Annie.” Drew leans toward me, his voice low.
I roll my eyes and step back, willing myself not to be moved by the way Drew sounds exactly like a rom-com male lead apologizing and trying to win back the heroine’s heart. He’s not Mr. Darcy over here, I remind myself. He’s the before. The Bill Pullman, but a jerk. The montage.
“You have to know most of the stuff on those sites is fake. That’s why Jennifer Aniston is perpetually pregnant with twins. Tarah and I are friends and maybe someone saw us talking and—”
“Oh, no thank you,” I say, taking a step back. “I’m so not here for whatever excuses you’re going to give me. With your big speech in the Book Loft about Frasier or whatever and trying to help my uncle with his table and pretending to be all nice. I don’t trust you, Drew Danforth, and you’re just part of a montage.”
He blinks. “Why do I get the distinct feeling that I should be insulted by that?”
“Because you should.” I turn away and start walking. “Goodbye, Drew.”
* *