“No, I went shopping for an interview I have on Friday.” I turned to look at him; he had an amused expression.
“Interview? With whom?” I was a little hesitant, not sure if he’d be excited or upset with the news.
Biting my lip, I blurted out, “The DeLuca firm.” Nervously chuckling, I watched as his lips slightly parted, and his cheeks lifted into a stupid boyish grin.
“Mia, that’s awesome! I do too. I just received the letter today in the mail. My meeting is Friday at 9:30 in the morning. Wait, I thought they only accepted third-year students?”
In a way, this didn’t surprise me. Jeremy’s father designed the DeLuca firm’s building, and his father had a way of using the advantages of knowing powerful individuals to help out his son.
I shrugged. “Professor Johnson put in a good word for me. I’m sure I won’t get the position, but it’s nice to be invited.” He placed his hand on my shoulder and gave me a reassuring smile.
“Mia, I’m sure you’ll get it. I’m actually not surprised you have the interview, so you know what this means!” he sang.
I knew I should be worried. “What?”
He jumped from the couch while stretching his arms in the air. He wore only boxer briefs, and with his curly blond hair a mess, he still managed to look adorable. He’d been working out a lot more this semester for the summer, and his hard work had paid off. I glanced at his ripped abs. The firm muscular lines caused the pit of my stomach to twist.
Swallowing, I tore my eyes away. The last time I’d had sex was two months ago, and it was with Jeremy. It began after my life changed seven months ago; he was there to comfort me, fully comfort me. Of course it was meaningless, drunken sex. We were able to do it and act as if nothing had happened.
Jeremy had never been in a relationship longer than a month. So in between his breaks, we would rekindle our sexual relationship. It actually worked out for us; though two months ago, I told him I didn’t want to anymore.
I watched him turn and walk towards the kitchen. He opened the fridge door, grabbed a carton of orange juice, and drank from the container. I shook my head. Boys will be boys. He held the carton out to me, and I shook my head again. “So what does this mean, Jeremy?” I hated when he kept me in suspense for this long.
“We’re going to celebrate tonight. Let’s go to Club21.” He sat beside me again. Within a second, he spread his legs and grabbed his package. “And besides I need to find a one-night stand because Thor needs some loving!”
I burst out laughing. “Thor? You named your package? Since when?”
He smiled. “I didn’t. One girl told me in the sack that I looked like one of the Hemsworth brothers, so I stuck to it.” He shrugged and took another swig of the orange juice.
Bringing my hands to my mouth, I tried my very hardest to stop the laughter. “Oh my God, please tell me she was hammered.” Jeremy was handsome, no doubt, but to compare him with the one and only Chris Hemsworth? She had to be drunk.
He pouted. “Just a little. Besides, I have to get action somehow. You cut me off on that, remember?”
Dropping my hands, I glared at him. “Jeremy we discussed this. In order for me to try and heal from the loss without your help, we can’t have sex anymore.” He nodded his head, agreeing, and I continued. “Besides, don’t you want me to help you find the hottest chick in the club tonight?”
His lips curled, and he nodded again. “You’re right. You’re a better sidekick than any of the guys.”
Getting up from the couch, I walked over, grabbed my bags, and headed to my bedroom before shouting, “See! There’s a good sport, so I should be ready around ten?”
I walked into my bedroom when I heard him yell. “Yeah! And don’t be taking like five hours getting ready either!” I laughed and shut my door. It was only five, so I could take a nap. I hung up all my new clothes and laid out a dress, accessories, and shoes for the night.
****
At 9:45, I was dressed with my hair and makeup done. Walking out of my bedroom, I decided to bother Jeremy. Not bothering to knock, I opened his bedroom door. To my surprise, he was lying on his bed in the same boxer briefs. “Jeremy!” His startled eyes peeked over the open lid of his laptop. “What are you doing? It’s fifteen minutes to ten!” Cocking my head, I glared at him as I threw one hand to my hip.
Removing the laptop from on top of his stomach, he placed it beside him and sat up. “Come on now, you know it only takes me fifteen minutes to get ready. I’ll hop in the shower now.” He stood from the bed. After a few steps, he froze and eyed me up and down. It was an erotic stare down, and my legs uncomfortably began to tremble. “What?” I asked, straightening my posture but keeping my hand on my hip.
With a slow and steady stride, he walked over. When he reached me, he was so close I could reach out and run my hands down his beautifully formed abs. He was sexy, but I didn’t see him that way—not anymore.
Leaning in, he rested his hands against the inner doorway, my head trapped between his biceps. As if he weren’t near enough, he moved in closer to the side of my face. “How could you possibly help me find the sexiest girl in the club tonight when I’m staring at her right now?” He erotically purred the words in my ear.
He was delusional! He knew better than to make sensual comments like that when I was already in heat. My initial reaction was to smack his arm, and I did it so fast, loud, and hard it made him jump and grab his bicep. “Jeremy! Quit that nonsense, get in the shower, and take me out! You owe me two drinks and a shot for that!” He smiled with his gleaming aqua blue eyes.
“Okay, okay, give a man a break. At least I tried. I am serious though; you look hot! I’ll be pissed if I hear you got laid tonight and I didn’t.” Grabbing a towel, he headed for the shower.
Shaking my head, I made my way to the living room, threw myself on the couch, and grabbed this month’s People magazine.
Twenty minutes later, Jeremy was standing in the living room in his fitted black pants and white button-down shirt with the top two buttons unhooked. His sleeves were rolled halfway up his forearms. His blond hair was damp from the shower but more maintained than earlier. He was wearing black shoes; although, I knew he’d rather wear sneakers. Club21 has a strict no-jeans-and-sneakers policy; it’s also harder to get into.
I hurried to my bedroom to take one last glance in the mirror. I decided to leave my hair down. It was parted in the middle, so the golden brown waves fell down the sides of my face and along my shoulders. The dress was a little short and tight, but it flattered my curves. The nude four-inch pumps allowed the radiant blue dress to pop; a bold gold chain necklace and matching bracelet completed my outfit. I smiled at my reflection, mentally thanking Melissa for the tips.
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