guys go back to the car. Not able to resist, I turn in Rooter’s direction to find him staring at me with a blank expression.
The moment we close the door, Miranda apologizes for the evening. “Worst date ever. This one’s on me. I was entirely wrong about Hayden.”
“It was pretty awful.” I sit on the sofa and remove my heels.
Ryan made me promise to text him the second I get home to tell him how the date went. Not thirty seconds after I press send he responds: Mind if I come over since it’s early?
It is early. It’s only ten o’clock. I respond to his text with: Abso-bloody-lutely. He thinks it’s hilarious whenever I say bloody or bollocks since I’m American.
“Ryan’s coming over,” I tell Miranda.
“Yay,” she says gleefully and claps her hands.
Miranda fell in love with Ryan after he gave her one of his famous back massages. The man has magical hands. He once rubbed my back for an entire hour. I thought I was in heaven. Yet another reason I wish he was straight. I’ve yet to meet a guy willing to give one, let alone one good at it.
Ryan, Miranda, and I sit in her room discussing and laughing about what a disaster our date was.
“That’s the absolute last time you set me up,” I warn her. “You suck at picking guys for me.”
“Tonight was a flop, I admit it, but it’s not my fault. There aren’t any good guys out there!”
“Hey,” Ryan says hand over heart, feigning offense, “I’m a good guy.”
“Yes, babe, you are.” I mess his long hair. “You’re the last good guy alive, and as luck would have it, you don’t like girls.”
“I love girls,” he says. “I just don’t want to shag them.”
Miranda yawns. “It’s been a long day for me. I’m going to call it a night.”
“In other words, get the fuck out, right?” Ryan says with a laugh.
The British accent is by far my favorite. I love when Ryan says any word with a ‘u’. He pronounces them with an ooh sound rather than an uh sound.
When Ryan and I enter my room I see Rooter’s light is on and his blinds are open. I turn my light on and hurry to the window to close my blinds when Rooter comes into sight. He’s shirtless, showing off all of his tattoos; the one on his arm continues onto his shoulder, down his side. I’ve never seen anything so magnificent. His sweatpants hang low on his hips revealing a perfect V on his abdomen. His eyes switch from me to Ryan and back again; his face giving nothing away. We both close our blinds at the same time.
“Bloody hell, that man is gorgeous!” Ryan says.
Sadness and emptiness sweep over me. “Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.”
I don’t sleep well. I spend the night tossing and turning, dreaming of Rooter. We kiss, we hold hands, he tells me he loves me. And then I wake up and am smacked by the reality none of those things will ever happen.
An hour later I walk Ryan to his car. We hug and give each other a quick, friendly kiss.
“See you tomorrow, babe,” he says and opens his car door.
“See ya, babe.”
When Ryan pulls away I turn around to find Rooter standing in his driveway watching me. Without a word I start walking to my house.
“I really didn’t take you as the revolving door type,” he snipes.
I come to a screeching halt and spin to face him. “What did you say?”
“Fucking one guy, going out with another a couple days later, then calling the first guy over after being dropped off by the second. That’s high traffic if you ask me.”
“I didn’t ask you, Rooter, so fuck off!”
He simply shrugs which pisses me off even more.
I charge toward him. “And who the hell are you to judge me? I’ve seen the skanks you run with.”
He throws his head back and laughs, a booming sound. “Apparently, you aren’t any better than them.”
“I’m not a slut!”
“Your actions would prove otherwise.” He purses his lips.
“You have no fucking idea what you’re talking about!”
“No? You fuck,” he makes air
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