“But isn’t it my turn to text back?” I pick my phone up and hold it out, showing her that he texted me last. Maybe I was supposed to say something back. I’m not good at this dating thing, seeing as I’ve never really done it before.
She sets her laptop down next to her on the couch and bends over, looking at my phone screen. She studies it for a long moment, like she’s mulling it over.
“If you want to text him, text him,” she finally says, leaning back on the sofa and going back to playing around on her laptop. “Not like you can read those books anymore. They look like they are about to fall apart,” Paige teases me about my worn books.
“Really?” I ask again. That’s not what I thought she’d say. Paige is not about dating. At least, she wasn’t when we were in college. I’d thought about doing it a few times, when I’d been asked out, but I ended up siding with her because I wanted to stay focused. School was the most important thing, and I had the rest of my life to date. I must be more excited about the prospect of dating than I thought, because the first guy to show me attention, I’m already pining after. And Oz is definitely not someone I should be chasing. I’ve seen guys like him in action. I went to school with them. They think money can buy anything, and they burn through girls like I burn through ninety-nine-cent ebook sales. I hate to judge him before I even know him, but a girl has to be smart. He probably thought when he flashed his American Express card it would have me desperate to crawl all over him. I wasn’t impressed. Like being in a museum—look at all the pretty, expensive things, but whatever you do, don’t touch.
“Yeah, why not? I mean, don’t chase the guy or anything. Make him do the work, but if you want to send him a text, do it. He was cute.”
I stare at her. “Is this like the Body Snatchers or something? You said the word cute and you’re encouraging me to talk to some guy.”
“Fine. Whatever. Don’t text him,” she says defensively.
“Paige, I’m teasing.”
“I know. I’m sorry. Just a lot on my mind.” Her shoulders drop a little, her auburn hair falling in her face. She scoops it up, pulling it into a ponytail out of her way.
“Want to talk about it?”
“Not really, just going through emails and weighing my options on what I want to do next.”
I let it go. Paige will talk when she’s ready. She’s not someone you make good progress with if you push.
“So,” I say, trying to change the subject to something lighter, and her eyes narrow at my tone. “Who was the hunk you were talking to on Friday? Did you get his number?”
“No. I’d be surprised if he even knows how to work a phone,” she growls, clearly agitated about the guy.
“That’s some serious aggression you got going on for such a short conversation.”
“Let’s say we have history, something else I really don’t want to talk about.” She shuts her laptop and places it on the coffee table before pulling the pink blanket over herself and turning on the TV above the fireplace.
She’s been off since Friday night, and maybe that guy has something to do with it. I would kill to know what history they have. I’ve never seen Paige give a guy the time of day before. She seems more annoyed with men than anything.
Lying down myself, I pull out my phone and debate what to text, but my phone vibrates before I can come up with something to say.
Oz: I’ve spent the weekend thinking about you.
My heart flutters. I look over at Paige, who quickly looks away from me.
Me: I’m sure you have better things to do than spend your whole weekend thinking about me.
Oz: That’s where you’re wrong, sweet Mallory.
Me: Such a charmer.
I wonder if these are lines he uses on women. I debate asking Paige to read the messages, but decide against it. Keep it fun and light, I remind myself.
Oz: Seems you bring it out in me.
Me: What did you really spend your weekend doing?
Oz: Aside from thinking about you, I worked. Always working.
Me: You found your way out to have a little fun Friday.
Oz: Lucky I did, or I wouldn’t have gotten to see you, gotten a taste.
His words make goose bumps break out across my skin. I bite my lip, having no idea what to say to that.
Me: What are you doing right now?
Oz: Sitting in my office. I finally broke. I thought you’d text me. I tried to hold out, but I couldn’t last.
Me: Sorry, been busy. Unpacking and all.
Oz: Just move?
Me: Yep! Brand-new to this whole New York thing. It’s a little scary but also exciting.
Oz: You have to let me show you around.
I wonder if he’s asking to be friendly, or maybe he’s suggesting a date... I look over at Paige, who is now sleeping. I remind myself of her words. Don’t chase.
Me: Are you asking me out on a date?
I send the text and regret it immediately. Maybe I should have done, like, a winky face or something so it’s more of a tease. Grr.
Oz: Call it anything you want as long as you agree to come.
Me: I’ll think about it.
I wonder whether I should go out with a random man I met for five minutes at a bar, but that’s what dating is, right? Not like I’m agreeing to go to his place or something. We could meet somewhere. Talk a little. Maybe I can try to see how genuine he is. He seems sweet. Too sweet maybe, like maybe it’s a game.
Oz: Fair enough. Think about it over something to eat with me.