Lovely. Just what she didn’t want to imagine—him with a bevy of women wanting to test-drive his penis. “Excellent. I should charge you an advertising fee.”
Drew grinned. “How about I just get you a drink. What do you want?”
Him. “Pinot grigio.” One glass wouldn’t kill her.
He nodded and looked behind her. “Hey, Samantha. What can I get you?”
“I’ll have the same thing.”
“Coming right up.” He moved away and Katrina watched his plaid ass saunter off.
She didn’t feel better. Granted, she was relieved he wasn’t mad at her, but shouldn’t he be more...something? More curious? Instead he was just Mr. Casual. As if they hadn’t basically stopped speaking to each other for a year.
“He seems quite pleased with himself,” Samantha commented. “He just got the ego stroke of a lifetime.”
“It would seem.” She wasn’t exactly happy about it, either. He thought it was funny. Entertaining. She’d said she was in love with him and that seemed to have had zero effect on him. Fabulous.
When he came back with their wine, she was wondering why the hell she was in the noisy bar, getting pressed from all sides by purses and bodies angling for more space. Feeling exhausted and suddenly angry, she asked, “So, what did you want to talk about?”
“I don’t want to get into it here. I’m done in half an hour. Can you hang out? We can go to my place.”
Was that a trick question? She searched his face for clues as to what that meant, but he just looked serious. There was no telling if it was a good serious or a bad serious. Taking a sip of her wine to stall, she swallowed and licked her lips. “I’m with Samantha.”
For a second she thought he looked disappointed, but maybe that was a delusion.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m going to grab a cab home soon. I have to work tomorrow.” Samantha gave her a smile. “Have fun.”
“Cool. Okay, let me get back to work.”
Katrina made a face at his retreating back. “What the hell does he want?” she asked Samantha. “I feel super stressed out. I’m sweating.”
But Samantha was looking at her cell screen. “OMG, look at this. I just got sent a suggestion to like a page called Drew’s Magnificent Penis Fan Page.” She showed Katrina the request.
“Oh, shit.” She groaned. “He’s going to kill me.”
“Maybe he started it.”
Now that would be ridiculous. They both burst out laughing.
“I’m sending you this,” Samantha said. “Look at the profile pic. It’s a cartoon penis. This is awesome.”
Katrina studied it, not nearly as amused as Samantha was. But even she had to admit that someone was creative. “The ‘About Me’ section says, ‘Looking for a lady locker to store my valuables. Have a license to kill memories of bad sex.’ Favorite song ‘Up All Night.’ Inspirational quote is ‘To handle yourself, use your head...,’ Eleanor Roosevelt.” Katrina looked up at Samantha. “Oh my God. Who do you think did this?”
“It had to be Jason. That has him written all over it.”
Katrina jumped when a hand slid across her lower back. Turning, prepared to tell off a douchebag, she closed her mouth when she realized it was Drew. “Oh, you scared me.”
“What are you two giggling about? Funny animal pics?”
“No.” Samantha held her phone up for him to see.
Drew’s lips moved and Katrina’s heart sank.
He didn’t look furious. He looked irritated, but not bust-up-furniture angry. “Who the hell did this?”
“I have no idea. It was a suggested page for me.”
Drew pulled out his own phone and he snorted. “Jason is a dick.”
“Ironic choice of slurs,” Samantha said.
Drew shot her a look. “He sent me a text taking credit.” He shook his head. “Let’s head out. And thanks, Trina, for making my Thursday a little more interesting.”
“You’re welcome. I think mine would be classified more as suck than interesting, but glad to be of service.”
Drew waited for them to go in front of him, his hand once again resting on Katrina’s back and staying there the whole way to the front door. She wondered what that was all about, and tried to remember if he had touched her like that BS. Before Sex. She couldn’t think of any time he had, but she felt like a neurotic 420 smoker yelling “What does it mean?” at a double rainbow. She was overthinking the hell out of everything.
Samantha gave her a wink as she hopped in a cab out on the street. Katrina waved, breathing in the warm night air. “God, it’s gorgeous out. It was so hot today.”
“I see the advantage of wearing a skirt,” Drew said as they started down the sidewalk. “I thought I would hate this kilt, but I dig the circulation.”
“It’s a good look for you.”
He smiled at her and something about the look on his face made her suck in a breath.
“Trina, I never meant for us to stop being friends. You know that, right?”
She nodded, a lump lodging in her throat. “Yeah, I know. I didn’t mean for that to happen either. Or I never would have...” But she stopped talking, because she wondered if she had the option of giving back that one night, would she. Because even though she missed Drew’s friendship, the truth was, it had been becoming painful to be around him, knowing her feelings went way beyond friendship. Not knowing how to tell him. At least the sex had kept her from endlessly hoping they could be a couple. That dream had been shattered instantly in the aftermath of sex.
“You never would have had sex with me?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest as they walked.
Awkward. “It obviously wasn’t planned, and I know I didn’t handle things well.”
“Sex happens. But it doesn’t mean we should let it ruin our friendship. I miss you.”
Oh, God, oh, God, he missed her and she was going to melt. Just puddle right at his feet. “I’ve missed you, too. I know we can’t go backward, but I want what we had before we got naked.”
“You mean, before my magnificent penis?”
Katrina made a sound of disgust. “You don’t have to sound so smug about it. You should be just a little embarrassed that everyone we know now knows we had sex.”
“Why would I be embarrassed? It’s not like you’re a troll.”
Huh. This conversation was not going the way she’d hoped. “Don’t flatter me so.”
But then he surprised her by taking her hand and pulling her to a stop. He pulled her in close to him. “Hey, come here.”
“What?” She could feel the blush starting in her cheeks again and she wondered when she was finally going to be old enough to stop blushing. It was like acne—it just shouldn’t happen past middle school.
“It was a great night, you have to admit.”
“I think I did. Quite publicly.” It was distracting to be so close to him, his kilt brushing against her, his fingers entwined with hers. But it was good to hear him say he’d enjoyed it, too.
“And you’re beautiful.” He tucked her hair behind her ear.
The love she felt for him, that she’d been attempting to suppress with mixed success, came rushing back to the surface. “Thanks,” she whispered.