“What’s it for?”
“My government and politics class. It’s ridiculous, and they want us to take a both-sides observation approach.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m not even from America. I don’t know why I have to learn all this rubbish.”
I laughed. “I’m pretty sure most Americans say the same thing. And wasn’t your mom American?”
“Yes, but she raised me with my father across the pond. So, here we are.”
“You’ve been here for a few years now, right?” I added, enjoying poking fun at him.
“You’re not helping the situation.”
“And wait, aren’t you a dual citizen?” I asked, and Pacey flipped me off.
“You’re not being a very good mate. I want to lament over this paper, and you’re not helping.”
“I can help you lament over the assignment and the fact that we have to do any work at all since we’re tired, but I will mention the fact that you should probably learn a few things about the country, especially since you’re a dual citizen.”
“Believe me, I know enough,” he said dryly, and then leaned back against his chair and smiled. “So, are we ever going to talk about what happened a few nights ago?” he asked, and I sighed.
“What do you mean?” I asked, lying.
“You’re a terrible liar. How is Elise?”
“I don’t know,” I said, suddenly uncomfortable. “I haven’t texted her.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t think she wants me to,” I replied.
“I think you should at least text her to see if she’s okay.”
“Why wouldn’t she be?” I leaned forward, slightly alarmed. “Did you hear something?”
Pacey sighed and closed his laptop. “I didn’t hear anything, but she seems like a nice girl. Smart, funny, and not an asshole. You should talk with her.”
“She didn’t want anything beyond what we had last night.”
“Texting doesn’t necessarily have to change that. She could be your friend. I’m just saying.”
“There’s nothing just about it,” I mumbled.
“Text her,” he pushed.
I pulled out my phone and sighed. “What do I say?”
“You know, I usually start with something like…hello. Although texting doesn’t get my winning accent, so then I have to add a very stereotypical ‘love’ or other things to it so they’re reminded I have this sexy British poshness.”
I met his gaze and laughed. The table next to me shushed me, and I winced.
“You’re going to get me into trouble,” I whispered.
“You say that. Or am I going to push you into a situation that you’ll love?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Excuse me?
“I’ve met your brothers and your sisters-in-law. They all mentioned that you are the family’s touchstone when it comes to relationships and communication. Funny how you can’t seem to take your own advice. So, here I am, throwing it back in your face.”
“I don’t think I like you right now,” I mumbled, looking down at my phone.
“I don’t think you have to,” he said, laughing. “Text her.”
I sighed. “Okay. But only because you’re forcing me.”
“Whatever it takes,” he said with a laugh.
Me: Hi.
“Hi? That’s all you’re going to say?” Pacey asked quietly.
I scowled at the other man. “Give me a second. I thought I was better at this.”
“We all thought you were.”
Elise: I’m headed to class soon. Is everything okay?
I winced. “This sucks. I’m really not good at this.”
“Maybe tell her that. Not me. She can’t hear you. Hence why you’re texting.”
We were whispering, but the table next to us kept glowering. I lowered my head and began typing again.
Me: I have class again too. I was just getting coffee with Pacey. Anyway, I’m at our coffee shop and thought of you.
That made me smile. Our coffee shop. That was nice. Not creepy. Right?
Elise: I just missed you then. I needed more caffeine to focus today.
Me: That’s what I was thinking. I had the most boring lecture ever, and now I have to go to an accounting class that’s already making my head hurt.
Elise: I thought you were good at accounting.
Me: I am, but the class is hard.
Elise: They’re going to get harder as we move on.
Me: That’s so helpful.
Elise: That’s me, a ray of bright sunshine. Hey, I’ve got to go. But thanks for texting.
Elise: It was nice to hear from you.
My heart warmed, and I let out a breath.
I knew Pacey was looking at me, but I ignored him.
Me: Maybe we can get coffee sometime.
Elise didn’t text for long enough that I was afraid I’d fucked up.
Elise: Maybe. I think I’d like that. I really have to go now. I’m not ignoring you. Promise.
I smiled, and Pacey let out a slow chuckle. I flipped him off and ignored him.
Me: Have fun in class, if you can. I’ll talk to you soon. Promise.
Elise: Okay. Sounds good. Bye, Dillon.
Me: Bye, Elise.
I set down my phone, and Pacey sipped the last of his coffee, grinning at me. “Told you.”
“I hate you sometimes,” I grumbled.
But that was a lie. I didn’t hate him. I just didn’t know if I owed him yet or not.
Chapter 6
Elise
I was flirting with Dillon Connolly. That was probably a mistake, but I couldn’t help myself. And I was doing it by text as if we hadn’t said that it would just be the one night. But I really couldn’t help it. I was enjoying myself. I was enjoying him.
I looked down at my phone and grinned, laughing at the silly meme he’d sent. It made no sense that I would be laughing so much when it came to him. I shouldn’t be, but he made me smile. However, it was a delusion. I couldn’t let myself want him more than I already did. We hadn’t even seen each other since I ran from his house—and that wasn’t even an exaggeration. I’d run from him and any future desires he may spark.
It made no sense that I was talking to him now, and yet, here I was, looking down at a text from him, my lips still twitching.
“Is that Dillon again?” Corinne asked, a smile on her face.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, and she just laughed.
“You say that, and yet I think it’s him. And I think you’re happy.”
“Stop,” I said.
“Stop what?” Nessa asked as she made her way into the room.
“Elise wants me to stop acting like this is normal,” Corinne said, and I blinked.
“What? What do you mean by normal? Are you saying I’m abnormal?”
“Keep pretending that you don’t want to get to know Dillon. That you don’t want to see him again. Just sit there texting him and not talk to us about it.” She mock pouted, and I chucked a throw pillow at her again.
“Will you please stop tossing throw pillows?” Natalie said as she made her way into the living room, a charcuterie board in her hands. “They might have the word throw in the title, but that’s not a direction. More an idea.”