Forget You (5 page)

I smiled, wondering what his response had
been to that.

What did he say? ~ Eva

Nothing much. Wes made us go back inside to
the party. I’m not sure what he did after, but I do know that I
woke up tangled in Wes’s sheets this morning.

Ugh. I refused to say what I really
wanted—how I was sure she wasn’t the only one this week to know
that feeling. Instead, I went with something a little on the
friendlier side.

Was it everything you imagined it to be? ~
Eva

Better.

As Mindy proceeded to give me all the “juicy
details,” as she called them, from her night with Wes, I thought
more about Sawyer, and his reason for wanting to know more about
me. The sexual attraction was most definitely there for me, and
obviously, it was there for him too. Otherwise, why else would he
have pulled Mindy to the side to ask for more information about
me?

Running my fingers through my wet hair, I
wondered if I should ask for his number.

Are you at Wes’s place now? ~ Eva

Yeah, why?

My stomach rolled as I typed out a
response.

I was wondering if you could ask Wes for
Sawyer’s number for me. ~ Eva

Chewing on my bottom lip, I squeezed my eyes
shut as I waited for her answer. My cell chimed seconds later.

Hold on.

Thanks. ~ Eva

Clutching my phone, I stood, and went to the
kitchen for a bowl of oatmeal. Why had I asked for his number when
I wasn’t sure I would have the nerve to use it? When Mindy finally
sent me a text with his number, I thanked her again, but didn’t
call Sawyer right away. What would I even say? I’d brushed the guy
off more than once because I’d lumped him in my category of “Do Not
Date” due to a few traits I’d noticed about him from the get
go.

However, I wasn’t trying to date him, was I?
No, definitely not.

My phone went off in my hand, startling me to
the point of nearly dropping it. It was a text from an unknown
number.

You asked about me, huh? I knew it was
goodnight and not goodbye between the two of us.

My lips twisted into a wide grin. It was
Sawyer. It had to be.

How did you get my number? ~ Eva

Same way you got mine. I asked Wes to ask
Mindy. Guess we were both thinking the same thing at the same time.
Imagine that.

What
were
the odds of that
happening?

Wanna go out with me tonight, pretty
eyes?

Generally, I hated it when guys called me
anything besides my actual name. Pet names that couples gave each
other were one of my biggest pet peeves. Some would say him calling
me “pretty eyes” wasn’t a pet name, but I still considered it one.
That wasn’t the problem though. The problem was I could hear him
uttering the words to me in that voice of his, and I liked it.

Where do you have in mind? ~ Eva

What do you like?

I thought for a moment. What did I like? I
liked his smile, and his six-pack. When it came to dates though, I
couldn’t think of anything in particular. Generally, guys either
met me at a party, took me to dinner and a movie, or we hung out at
the bar. What else was there?

Food. Movies. Alcohol. All the usual things.
~ Eva

What about games?

Games? If he was planning to take me to some
stupid football game, I would have to cancel. There was no way I
was sitting outside in the freezing cold on some hard ass metal
bench, watching a game I knew nothing about.

What kind? ~ Eva

The kind you play.

What a smart-ass.

Like football? No. I’d rather play video
games instead. ~ Eva

Great, because that’s the kind I meant.

Closing my eyes, I began to wonder if he was
serious. Was Sawyer Keeton, active National Guard member, a
freaking video gamer? I seriously hoped not. He had to be
joking.

How about I pick you up at six? We can eat,
and then head to the arcade.

My stomach dropped to my toes. He was
serious. I pursed my lips together as I thought this situation
over. An arcade, really? Not my top pick for a date, but maybe it
could be fun. A new text came in from Mindy while I was pondering
what to do.

Sorry, I gave Wes your number to pass along
to Sawyer. Hope you’re not mad.

She’d actually done me a favor, but I wasn’t
going to admit that.

No, it’s fine. He’s in the process of asking
me out for tonight. ~ Eva

Yay! Are you saying yes? Where’s he taking
you?

I’m not sure if I’ll go yet. He wants to go
to the arcade. Is that stupid? I’ve never been asked on a date
there. ~ Eva

Not stupid at all. It could be fun! Give it a
shot.

I didn’t respond to her text. Instead, I
switched back over to Sawyer’s message thread.

Sure. Six will be fine. ~ Eva

Mindy had been right. Maybe I should give it
a shot. I had nothing better to do besides laundry, and who wanted
to do that on a Saturday night?

Cool. Text me the directions to your place,
and I’ll pick you up.

My thumbs tapped across the screen of my
phone as I typed out the directions. As I pressed send, my heart
leaped into my throat. Sawyer Keeton, me, and a video arcade—there
could be worse ways to spend my night. Licking my lips, I thought
about what I should wear on a date like this. I might have to make
that trip to Paige’s Closet for real today.

SAWYER

After pulling up to Eva’s apartment complex,
I sat with the engine idling for a while and stared at the
building. Not because I was nervous, but because I’d been so
excited to go out with her, I’d arrived twenty minutes early.
Popping a mint into my mouth, I cut the engine on my car, pulled
out my cell, and cruised around on Facebook for a bit. When it was
five minutes till, I climbed out to find her door.

Her place was on the second floor. I stood
outside, preparing to knock, but also listening for any noises
coming from inside. I wanted to know if she was the type who
blasted music when she was getting ready or if she left the TV on
as background noise. The desire to know something more about her,
regardless of how small or trivial it was, slipped through my mind.
Standing outside her door, all I heard was silence. Knocking, I
took a step back and waited for her to answer. It didn’t take her
long. I took this as a good sign.

“Hey,” I said when she swung the chipped
brown door open.

A small smile tugged at the corners of her
lips as she eyed me. “Hi, come on in. Let me grab my stuff.”

The scent of coconut flooded my nostrils,
making my mouth water. I loved it when a girl wore something that
made them smell like food instead of flowers, cheap hookers, or old
ladies. Coconut, apple, strawberry—those were my favorites.

Stepping through the door, I closed it behind
me, but didn’t migrate farther into her apartment. With my back to
the door, I took in the place. It was a small apartment, but so was
mine. A white and tan striped couch sat along the wall farthest
from me. A bookshelf stood beside it, decorated like something cut
from the pages of a magazine. A scuffed up coffee table that had
seen better days rested in front of her couch. There was a bowed TV
stand with an old school tube TV on it. The screen was no bigger
than nineteen inches.

“I haven’t seen a TV like this in a while.
Everyone has flat screens now,” I muttered randomly.

Eva glanced at me from where she stood in the
kitchen, the color of her sweater making her eyes even brighter. “I
don’t buy new things unless I need them.”

“Good philosophy.” I crammed my hands into
the front pockets of my jeans. “More people should live by that
motto.”

She flipped off the light in her kitchen, and
started toward me. Dressed in a tight-fitting pair of jeans, black
ballerina flats, and a soft-looking turquoise sweater, Eva looked
mouthwatering. Her hair was flowing past her shoulders, and her
makeup was nowhere near overdone. I swallowed hard, fighting to
gain control over my thoughts, because there was only one train my
brain had jumped on.

“I know. I think if I made a T-shirt with
that on it, people would buy them.” She smiled. “You ready?”

We were standing in her dark apartment, with
me blocking the damn door. Nervous butterflies flapped their
gigantic wings in the pit of my stomach. I wasn’t a ladies’ man,
that role had been Ryker and Wes’s in the family, but I was never
this tense when it came to them either.

Taking in a deep breath, I stepped to the
side. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Eva grabbed a thin coat from a hook beside
the door, and pulled it on as we stepped outside. Locking the door
behind us, she started for the stairs. Neither of us spoke again
until I motioned to my car. Eva started toward the passenger side,
and I swore I heard a hostile sounding snort come from her.

“I knew it,” she muttered under her breath,
barely loud enough for me to hear.

“Knew what?” I asked, flashing a crooked
grin. I gripped the handle to the driver side door, and slid behind
the wheel.

The smell of her perfume or soap—whatever the
hell it was that made her smell so damn good—filled the space
inside my car quickly.

“I knew you’d drive a Mustang or some other
sporty, muscle car like this.” She slammed the passenger door shut
harder than necessary, and I fought the urge to tell her so.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing. Most
girls think it’s hot seeing guys drive cars like this, don’t they?”
I cranked the engine.

“I’m not most girls, so I wouldn’t know,” she
insisted. “What I do know is that this car fits with the category I
placed you in earlier.”

“And what category would that be?” Her
statement had intrigued me.

As I backed out of the parking space, I
waited for her answer. She set her purse at her feet, and then
crossed her ankles, before she crammed her hands underneath her
thighs. A shiver racked through her body. I frowned, wishing the
heat in Ryker’s car didn’t take a year to work.

“The cocky, arrogant player, complete douche
bag of a guy category. You know, the type your cousin Wes fits into
so perfectly.”

“You mean to tell me you aren’t part of the
Wes Keeton fan club?”

She shook her head. “Nope, not at all.”

I chuckled. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

“And that means?” She tilted her head to the
side, and stared at me.

I turned the knob on the heat, and got it
blowing mildly warm air.

“Nothing. Just that any woman who lumps guys
into categories, the way you obviously do, isn’t the type to fall
for the playboy façade.” I was serious, probably more serious than
I’d ever been about anything in quite a while. “You’re too
observant for your own good.”

Eva leaned back against her seat. “Yeah,
well, you got that right. That’s why I wasn’t positive I wanted to
waste my time tonight with you.”

Either I’d struck a nerve by calling her
observant, or she was just blunt. Glancing at her, I realized my
answer in the twist of her lips. Blunt. This girl was just fucking
blunt as all get out.

I laughed. “Well, guess I’m glad you took a
chance, because now you’ll see I’m not supposed to be in that
category.”

This was partially the truth. I wasn’t one of
those guys. I never truly was. Ryker could have been considered
more of a playboy than me. Yeah, I had a long list of one-liners I
enjoyed using, but that was because I was sarcastic as hell. It
wasn’t because I was trying to get into some girl’s pants by being
an ass.

“Time will tell.” She smiled, and shifted to
look out the window.

The rest of the ride was spent listening to
the only radio station Ryker’s car ever seemed to get clearly—some
rap station from two towns over. I’d caught Eva tapping her fingers
against her knee a few times, but for the majority of the drive,
she sat still.

“So, where are you taking me for dinner?” she
asked, breaking the silence in the best of ways.

“The best place ever.” I smiled.

When we pulled up in front of the local
pizzeria, I didn’t know what I expected Eva to say, but I knew I
had never expected her to laugh the way that she did.

“What’s so funny? This place has got the best
margarita pizza I’ve ever tasted,” I insisted, trying not to give
in to her contagious laugh.

“This is like a date a thirteen-year-old
would take me on.” She chuckled.

“A thirteen-year-old? No way. This is the
best date ever.”

“Oh my God, pizza and video games? Right,
best date ever.” Tears were trickling down her cheeks, she was
laughing so hard.

Crap, maybe this was a juvenile date I’d
planned.

“Are you sure you’re twenty-three?” She
opened her door, and stepped out.

Cutting the engine, I quickly followed her.
“What, would you rather we go to some fancy restaurant, have a few
drinks, and then go to some boring ass movie?”

“Generally, that’s the type of dates I go
on.” She shrugged.

Holding open the door to Chandler’s Pizzeria,
I motioned for her to step inside before me. The warm air infused
with the scent of garlic and marinara sauce flowed to my nose,
making my mouth water.

“Lame. Those dates are lame,” I insisted.

A dark-haired guy behind the front desk
motioned to us, and asked how many. I held my fingers up, flashing
him a two, and then we followed him to a table in the back.

“Sometimes I go on dates to parties or the
bar,” she said. There was a slight bit of defensiveness etched into
her words that I found comical.

“Right, because those are so original.” I
slid into the booth seat across from her, and took a menu from the
waiter—even though I already knew what I wanted to order.

“You are absolutely right. Thank you for
pointing that out to me.” Her incredibly colored eyes met mine
across the table. “Looks like you have your work cut out for you.
You need to turn this middle school date into something
extraordinary, Sawyer Keeton.”