Chapter 9

Bonnie

I couldn’t shake an image from my mind — not the one where Nash Preston’s lips were tightly molded to mine in his office — but the one from six years ago. The day I decided I’d had enough of pining for him.

In college, I was widely involved with social clubs and groups, enthusiastically organizing events. Nash was the exact opposite. Captain of the college basketball team, surrounded by a horde of cheerleaders, and living the high life. The only common ground was that we were both equally excellent students. I didn’t know when he had the time to study. Between doing body shots on Friday nights and banging chicks to the wee hours of the morning. That didn’t stop me from crushing on him.

It had started as a crush, a mild innocent crush, which I couldn’t help because he was the most gorgeous man I had ever seen. But it soon became much more than that. I pretended to hate him. We were competitive students in class, and I giggled at his womanizing ways to my friends behind his back. But in the privacy of my own thoughts, I wished that Nash would look at me the way he looked at those other women. That he wouldn’t simply think I was some studious dork. That he would find me attractive and want to sleep with me.

The only person I had hinted this to was Nell. But even she couldn’t have guessed at the intensity of my feelings for Nash. She figured it was a phase, a small crush that would end the moment I went on a date with him.

So, that fateful evening, it was Nell’s idea. She convinced me I should ask him out. That it was uncharacteristic of me to keep waiting for a man to make the first move. I agreed, on the promise that she wouldn’t tell anyone else about it.

So, I put on a dress. I still remembered that dress. A new red-sequined cocktail dress. I did up my hair so that it fell in curling waves around my shoulders. I tried to ignore the way the dress rode up my legs and slipped into sky-high red stilettos, too.

I knew where to find him. Where Nash and his buddies always hung out. Pete’s Pub, just off campus. When I walked in, I was immediately reminded of why I stayed out of places like those. Noisy, filled with drunk college students acting irresponsibly, loud music and the smell of pot wafting in from the restrooms. But I had decided not to chicken out. I was going to find him, I was going to ask him out on a date if that was the last thing I did.

I spotted Nash at the bar, and my heart started beating fast. I still remembered that feeling because I’d felt it yesterday when I opened the door of my apartment and found him standing on the other side. It was a dizzying feeling, even though I was only staring at the back of his perfect dark head.

As I weaved through the crowd, getting closer to this guy I had obsessed over since the beginning of college, I could now see more clearly what he was doing.

Nash Preston had his hand right up Melissa Meyer’s skirt. Yes. I saw that happening.

Melissa Meyer was the head of the cheerleading squad and a girl who Nash had allegedly broken up with at least four times in the past two years. And yet there she was, perched on a bar stool next to him, and he had his hand up her skirt. Melissa’s hands were pressed down on her lap, telling me that she was enjoying herself. That Nash wasn’t just touching her thigh. Her eyes were pressed shut, and she was biting down on her bottom lip.

The dim lighting in the pub, the large throngs of people pressing down around me, might have hidden them from other people’s sight, but not mine. It was plain as day what was going on. And they weren’t trying to hide it either.

I glanced from Melissa’s pleasured face to Nash’s amused smile. It disgusted me. I was going to throw up. I couldn’t believe that I thought I was in love with this despicable man.

That image had scorched itself in my brain. I could never get it out. Every time, after that, when I thought I couldn’t bear to keep my feelings for Nash in check, I recalled that image. Of Nash’s hands shaking vigorously under Melissa’s skirt, her closed eyes. I had seen something that I should never have seen in the first place. But at least it helped me get over him. Or so I thought.

And now that image was confused with the kiss we’d shared. Or rather the kiss he’d forced on me.

“You know, maybe you were just still drunk,” Nell interrupted my thoughts.

We were sitting in the drive-through parking lot, munching on our greasy burgers and fries.

“You mean from last night?” I asked, sipping noisily on my milkshake.

“Yeah, like maybe you were still drunk from last night and you didn’t know what you were doing,” Nell said, scrunching up the tissue paper that the burger was wrapped in.

“I wasn’t drunk, Nell. I was of completely sound mind,” I said, gulping the milkshake down. There was no excuse for what had happened, as much as Nell attempted to make me feel better about it.

“It was just a kiss anyway,” Nell added and I jerked my head to look at her.

“A kiss like that? He touched me,” I said and a smile formed on her face. I knew what she was thinking.

“But you enjoyed it,” she was quick to say.

“Of course, I did. But that isn’t the point. What is his game?” I said in a louder voice. I didn’t want to talk about how much I had enjoyed it.

“His game? Nash Preston is known to just do what he wants. He wanted to kiss you, so he did,” Nell continued matter-of-factly, and she did have a point.

“So, am I just supposed to forget it? He seemed to have just forgotten it the moment it ended,” I said, raising my hands up quizzically in the air.

Nell shrugged. “As long as you enjoyed the kiss, and as long as you’re doing what you want to do, why does it matter?” she said, but I wasn’t satisfied. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for here.

“I mean, you haven’t had sex in a while, Bonnie. Take what comes to you. Especially if it’s Nash Preston. I know I would,” she added, wiping her greasy hands on her jeans.

I scrunched my nose and pretended to gag. At least there was some comic relief, but it only lasted a few moments. I couldn’t think straight.

“I don’t want to complicate things,” I said after some silence. Nell was nodding her head as she gazed out in the dark, into the empty parking lot.

“I know what you mean. I remember the crush you had on him in college. Do you still feel that way?” she asked, in all seriousness. My first instinct was to vigorously shake my head, but I wasn’t sure if I could lie very smoothly to Nell. She would see right through me.

I shrugged my shoulders instead, I didn’t actually want to say the words. The truth was that I didn’t know what I was feeling myself. Whether this was just a resurgence of a crush, whether it was just a jumble of emotions because he had bought my company…

“Either way, right now, all I want to do is piss that Seraphine James off,” I said and we both were laughing again. There was some truth to that. She had thrown me a little, with her appearance so soon after our kiss. And you could say that I had partly even agreed to the date the next night because I wanted to trump her.

But had she not been there, would I have said yes anyway? Despite the scene from the bar with Melissa, was I strong enough to reject Nash?

“What are you thinking?” Nell asked, and I licked my lips. I’d never told her about that night, just that I had changed my mind and that Nash Preston wasn’t worth my time.

“Just that this could end in disaster for me. And being with him goes against every shred of belief I hold dear,” I replied, in a quiet calm voice. Who was I kidding? Being with him? Knowing Nash, he might not even remember to pick me up the next night.