No Attachments - By Tiffany King Page 0,24

and check it out too. Maybe we could go check them out tonight before Britt heads out."

"Can't tonight," I said around a mouthful of pizza.

"Why not?"

"I kind of told Nathan I'd go out with him tonight."

"Are you fucking with me? You've known this whole time I've been here that you're going out with make-me-wet stranger and you're just now mentioning it?" she yelled, whacking me with the remote again.

"So help me god, if you hit me with that remote again, you'll find it shoved somewhere you don't want it."

"Oh, you flirt. Now, stop coming on to me and spill it," Tressa demanded, muting the TV as if my news required absolute silence to be revealed.

"It's really no biggie. I think Nathan and I have tentatively agreed to date with a possibility of it turning into an affair with no attachments," I squawked out. Our deal suddenly seemed utterly ridiculous when steam and heat weren't clouding my judgment.

"Holy shit, you slut," she joked as I glared at her. "Kidding."

"I must be insane, right?" I moaned, covering my face with my hands.

"If that's insanity, break me off a piece. I'll take a no-strings kind of arrangement with him any day. So, where's he taking you?"

"I'm not sure," I admitted, rising from the sofa so I could calm my nerves with a mind-numbing amount of ice cream. "He said he'd take care of it when I pointed out Woodfalls isn't really known for their restaurant choices," I added, grabbing two bowls from the cabinet.

"Hey, that's not true. Now that they finally finished the McDonald's by the high school, we're completely chic," she mocked.

"Right you are. There's absolutely nothing wrong with gazing into each other's eyes over a cheeseburger and fries."

"Honey, I'm sure he won't be gazing in your eyes," she teased, looking at my chest.

"Stop being a perv. Besides, my boobs are nowhere near as big as yours," I answered, taking a big bite of ice cream so I wouldn't have to say anything else. A moment later, I yelped in pain as the ice cream hit my head in the worst case of brain freeze ever.

"Sheesh, dip, didn't anyone ever teach you to take smaller bites?" Tressa asked, handing over her glass of water. "I feel like I'm babysitting Mackenzie and Matthew," she teased, referring to her twin two-year-old niece and nephew.

I would have glared at her, but my head wasn't quite over the stabbing sensation I was currently suffering from. After several moments, I was finally able to resume eating my ice cream in smaller increments that Tressa took it upon herself to remind me to take. We spent the rest of the afternoon laughing our way through the comedies she had brought over. I pushed thoughts of Nathan to the far recesses of my brain, but every once in a while they would pop in just to frazzle me throughout the afternoon. By the time Tressa gathered her stuff to leave, I gave up all pretenses of normalcy.

"You'll be fine," she said, giving me a hard hug in typical Tressa fashion.

"I'm not worried," I blatantly lied through a fake smile.

"Right. Your face is always a delicate shade of green," she said, laughing. "You'll be fine," she repeated. "Just enjoy the ride," she added, wagging her eyebrows at me suggestively. "And I mean that in every sense of the word."

"You're not helping," I griped, shooing her out the front door.

"I expect tons of text messages and a call first thing in the morning," she yelled through my front door as I sagged against it. I was a mess. I seriously needed to get my shit together before Nathan saw through my adolescent hang-ups.

The next hour passed in a frenzied whirlwind of activity as I exhibited behaviors of someone who didn't have their shit together at all. I had decided to keep my attire casual and wear the cable-knit sweater and jeans I already had on. Halfway through brushing my hair, I had a sudden panic attack that my legs weren't freshly shaved. Dropping my jeans to my ankles, I rubbed my hand down my legs, grimacing at the short stubble that covered them. I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. Six forty-five, shit, maybe I had enough time to quickly run a razor over them.

With my jeans still around my ankles, I hobbled toward the bathroom, which wasn't the best idea with my brain so frazzled. I took a face-first header into the wooden floors of my room that knocked