by K. A. Linde
She left my room in a hurry, and I sighed.
Yeah, I’d royally fucked that one up.
B.
I’d been staring at the letter long enough that most of the rest of the class had emptied out of the room. My professor still stood behind the lectern, but I was too embarrassed and horrified to speak to him. I wasn’t certain that I wouldn’t break down into tears if I opened my mouth right now.
“Miss Graham, it’s time for you to leave,” Professor Williamson said.
I hadn’t even noticed that he had snuck up on me. “My paper has a B on it,” I told him.
“Yes. I was surprised by that as well.”
“I can’t get a B.” My voice didn’t even sound like me. It was high-pitched and squeaky as if I might combust at any moment.
“You’ve done exemplary the rest of the semester, Miss Graham. I’m sure if you study harder for the next one, then you’ll keep that A you’ve earned thus far.”
Study harder. Ha! Maybe I would have if my boyfriend hadn’t gone off the deep end.
I realized I was sneering at my professor in my attempt at a smile, and I stopped. How the hell was I going to get out of this? I’d never gotten a B before in my life.
“But you do have to leave,” he insisted.
“Right. Of course.” I robotically packed up my stuff and then slung my bag over my shoulder. “Just have to study harder. Do better. All that.”
“Feel free to stop by during my office hours, and I’d be happy to discuss the problems that you missed.”
I laughed maniacally and then swallowed down the crazy. I needed to get a grip.
“Thank you, sir. I’ll take you up on that next week.” I rushed out of the room before I could freak out anymore in front of Professor Williamson.
I fumbled around for my phone as I walked out of the building.
Grant picked up almost immediately. “Hey, Princess, are you all ready? I had to do some rearranging, but I think I have everything perfect.”
“I got a B on my test,” I croaked.
“Congrats! That’s awesome.”
“Are you kidding?” I nearly screeched. “I’ve never gotten less than an A-minus. Not even a B-plus. Definitely not a plain old B. Do you know what this could do to my GPA?”
“Oh…well, it’s not like this is the final grade. You probably still have an A in the class or something, right?”
Just the thought of not keeping straight As was making me hysterical. “I have to cancel tonight,” I hollowly told him.
“What? You want to skip our date? It’s Valentine’s Day.”
“Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. It’s Friday the thirteenth, and I received my first B. Yes, I want to skip. This night is only going to get worse.”
“Aribel, come on. Don’t do this,” he pleaded. His Southern accent was more pronounced than ever.
Dirty tricks. It was a good thing I couldn’t see his smile.
“I need to stay in to study and figure out how not to ruin my life.”
“It’s one bad grade. Let me take you out to make you feel better. That’s what’s supposed to happen in these situations, right?”
I shook my head and plopped down onto a bench. “I’m not up for it. I’m emotionally devastated.”
“I didn’t know you had a flare for the melodramatic.”
“Grant McDermott! Do not make fun of me in my time of need!”
“Princess, I’m not making fun of you,” he said earnestly. “I’m the reason you didn’t study as much as you normally do. I’ve spent a lot of time getting everything ready for the ride into the city. We can’t cancel now. I will resort to kidnapping your ass.”
“Just try it, darling,” I spat back.
“If you’re not ready by the time I get there, you might get your wish.”
“Grant—”
“See you soon.”
The line went dead, and I glowered at the phone. I didn’t even know what to wear to this Valentine’s Day date. Since when were we going into the city anyway? Ugh! I had a horrible feeling about this.
I spent my afternoon trying to figure out where Grant was taking me. It was better than obsessing over the B staring back at me from my desk. There had to be a way for me to make that grade up. I couldn’t get halfway into the semester with a B average.
Oh my God! Here I was obsessing all over again. I glared at my test and then flipped the paper upside down, so it couldn’t continue to mock me.
Back to Grant.
What kind of Valentine’s Day would Grant McDermott plan?
I Googled Valentine’s Day dates in New York City, and an insane list populated, including everything from ice-skating and a horse-drawn carriage around Central Park to hot chocolate and Netflix. There was no way he was going to do any of these cheesy romantic things. That was so not Grant.
After late-night swimming at a hotel, horseback riding, and watching a sunset on the beach last year…maybe I was wrong?
Nah, he’d be more likely to take me to some concert in the city. I wondered who was playing. As I was investigating all the possible concerts we could attend, my phone buzzed with a message.
Be there in twenty. I brought handcuffs. I hope I need them.
My cheeks heated. That damn man could make me blush over a freaking text message.
I exited out of the phone and went to get ready. I only had twenty minutes, and I spent most of the time straightening out my hair in the bathroom and the other time debating between my pink cardigan and my cream sweater. I decided on the sweater as I heard a knock on the door.
“I got it!” I called out.
Gabi had already left for her plans with McAvoy. In a few hours, Cheyenne and Shelby were going to some anti-Valentine’s Day party off-campus that would basically result in everyone coupling up with strangers.
I opened the door, and my jaw dropped.
Grant was in a tuxedo.
I blinked.
He was still in a tuxedo.
I blinked again. It wasn’t going away.
“Hey, Princess,” he said with that signature smug smile.
“What are you wearing?”
“You’ve never seen one before? I find that surprising.”
“I’ve seen a tux but…not on you.”
He leaned down and planted a firm kiss on my lips. “I wanted tonight to be special.”
I glanced down at my cream sweater and cringed. I hadn’t thought he would want to do something…fancy. It was completely uncharacteristic.
“Just…give me a minute.”
I ducked back into my bedroom, undressed, and tossed my sweater and jeans onto my bed. Ugh! I had not been prepared for this. After rummaging through my closet, I located a short black dress my mother had bought me the last time she and my father had been in Paris. She had insisted I bring it with me to college. It was coming in handy now.
There was no time to change my hair or makeup. I slid on a pair of high heels, grabbed my peacoat and black clutch, and then hurried out of my room.
“Wow,” Grant murmured when I walked into the room.
“Good wow or bad wow?”
“You look amazing.”
“Thanks. I did what I could on short notice.”
“Sorry. I should have forewarned you, but I wanted it to be a surprise.”
He gestured for the door, and he followed me out into the brisk evening air.
“Where exactly are you taking me?”
“You’ll see.”
I shrugged. It was much colder out without my sweater and jeans, but I guessed if he wanted to do this, then I’d play along. He really didn’t have to though.
A black town car was parked on the street, and I glanced around. “Where’s the truck?”
“No truck tonight.”
The driver hopped out of the front seat and opened the back door.
Oh.
Oh!
My brain wasn’t catching up quickly enough with what I was seeing. “You got a
car? To drive us into the city?”
“Don’t act so shocked,” he said. “I can afford to do nice things for you.”
“Of course you can. I didn’t think you would want to.”
“That I wouldn’t want to do nice things for you?”
“No,” I said plainly. God. I needed to get myself together. I wasn’t trying to insult him. I was trying to understand. “That you’d want to get all dressed up. Ignore me. I’ll get in the car now.”
Grant climbed in after me, and then we were off.
I couldn’t believe the things I’d said and the way I had acted. Yes, it was surprising he had shown up in a tuxedo and was driving me to New York City in a town car. Wouldn’t most girls be jumping up and down for this?
I couldn’t place where my unease originated. It was probably a result of the bad grade I’d gotten today, and I was simply being dramatic. That was what I was going with.
The traffic into the city was horrendous, thanks to the holiday weekend, and it took us forever to make it to our destination. I was jittery by the time we pulled up, and I was anxious to find out where we were.
When the car door opened and I stepped out onto the noisy city street, I teetered on my heels in anticipation. Grant slid his hands over my eyes. His breath was hot against my ear, and it sent a shiver up my spine. Where had this all come from? What had happened to my manwhore rock-star boyfriend?
“Ready?” he breathed.
I nodded.
He walked me inside a building, into an elevator, pressed me back against the wall, and then dropped his mouth down onto mine. I returned his kiss that was layered with a hint of desperation and desire with my own need for him.
We broke apart as the elevator dinged before opening to our destination.
My face fell. Oh.
“Surprise!”
Orchids filled the room of the restaurant with the same name, and they assaulted my senses. I’d been to Orchids more times than I could count. When my dad did business in the city, we always ended up at Orchids. It was one of the nicest places in the city, and they catered to a certain clientele that made me wonder what kind of backroom deals Grant must have done to get us seated on such a prominent holiday.
I immediately felt bad for thinking it. He was trying to do right by me. It was sweet, charming. He was treating me like the princess he always called me.
“Reservations for two. McDermott,” Grant said to the host.
“Ah, yes, Mr. McDermott,” the man said, looking him up and down. “Right this way.”
We were seated at a little candlelit table by a window with a bottle of champagne waiting.
“Okay, seriously. How did you get us into Orchids on Valentine’s Day?” I asked.
Grant shrugged and gave me his most devious look. “Connections.”
“But this place is next to impossible to get into on a regular day.”
“You said you wanted to come here, so I brought you.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What? I never said I wanted to come to Orchids.”
“Well, I heard you mention it to your friends. Same thing.”
“Oh. No, it’s where my dad always comes for business.”
His face fell as the news hit him.
“Not that it isn’t nice. It’s a great restaurant.”
“Did you want to go somewhere else?” he asked.
I caught his eye and shook my head. “No. This is perfect. Really.”
Perfect. Really.
I’d never heard so much bullshit come out of her mouth in one night.
I’d put in all of this work to get her the kind of Valentine’s Day I thought she would want. Fancy dinner, town car, tuxedo—I thought these things were a fucking prerequisite. But she had been more uncomfortable since I picked her up than I’d seen her since I pursued her like a fucking maniac last semester.
She sweetly smiled back at me and then opened her menu.
Man, I’d better be getting laid after this.
“So, you like French food?” she asked.
French food? I opened the menu. Half of it was in French. Well, fuck me.
“Sure.” I shrugged as I tried to understand what the fuck was in front of me.
The waiter came by and introduced himself. Ari asked for a bottle of some French wine I couldn’t come close to pronouncing, and she did it all in flawless French. The waiter was enamored with her. He left with a skip in his step.
“You speak French,” I said tightly.
“Not fluently.”
“Uh-huh.”
I peered over my menu at the people surrounding us. It was a myriad of older couples who were barely looking at each other and flighty gold-digger types with sugar daddies. We were the youngest people in the room by a long shot, and the longer I sat in here, the more uncomfortable I felt. I had been a fool to think that by putting on a tuxedo, I’d suddenly belong here. You can take the boy out of the trailer, but you can’t take the trailer out of the boy.
When the waiter returned, he uncorked the bottle, poured a small amount into my glass, and then handed it to me. Really? That was all I was going to get? I could down that bottle myself in a couple of minutes.
“Is this not the bottle you requested?” the waiter asked carefully.
“You’re supposed to taste it,” Ari whispered across the table.
“Right.” I sipped from the glass. “Uh…yeah, that’s great.”
The waiter arched an eyebrow and then poured the wine for both of us. “Are you ready to order?”
I’d stared at the menu for ten minutes, and the only thing that sounded appetizing was the steak, but it was a hundred fucking dollars. Who paid that much for a steak? I could buy one and grill it at home for ten bucks.
“You go first,” I offered.
She swiftly spoke in French to the man. Who knew what she was getting?
When their eyes turned to me, I took that as the cue to order. “I’ll have the steak. Medium rare.”
Ari blanched as I handed him the menus, and then he left the table.
“That steak is really expensive,” she murmured.
“It’d better be fucking good then.”
She giggled. It was the most amazing sound I’d heard all night. She slapped her hand over her mouth and shook her head. She couldn’t stop laughing. Her shoulders were shaking, and soon, tears formed in her eyes.
“What is so damn funny, Princess?”
“Honestly? This whole night. No! This whole damn day.”
A few people were peering over at us because she was still laughing uncontrollably.
I couldn’t help it. A smile appeared on my face, and then I was laughing, too.
“People are looking at us,” I told her.
“Since when have you ever cared?”
That was a good point.
“I’ve got an idea,” she said. She took a deep breath to try to control her laughter and pressed a hand to her side. She must have had a stitch from laughing so hard. “Oh my God, my cheeks hurt.”
“You’re fucking insane.”
“To be dating you? Obviously.” She winked at me.
Who was this chick in front of me? This gorgeous, confident girl. When we had first met, I would never have thought she would be like this.
“Are you ready for my idea?”
“This’d better be good.”
She leaned forward and whispered, “Let’s ditch this place.”
“And go where?” I threw my hands out.
Her eyes twinkled. “I have an idea.”
“All right.” Who was I to stop her from being spontaneous?
Aribel promptly stood, grabbed my hand, and walked out of the restaurant with her head held high. I’d dined and ditched before but never at a place like this. Definitely never at a place where I’d ordered a hundred-dollar steak. Then again, I’d never fucking been at a restaurant like this before either.
Before I knew what was happening, Ari threw her arm out, and a yellow cab zo
omed up in front of us.
“But what about the town car?”
“We don’t need it,” she said. She reached forward, undid my bowtie, and pulled it off. “Or that.”
I grabbed her by the arm. “Are you sure about this? I thought this was what you’d want.”
“I know,” she said with a smile. “If I wanted all of this, I could have it. But I just want you.”
That was all I needed to hear before I claimed her. Her lips felt so fucking good, and if she kept clutching at me so desperately, I was going to skip whatever her idea was and find the nearest hotel. She groaned into my mouth, and I nearly lost it.
But the cab honked at us and ruined the moment. Ari laughed and then darted inside, apologizing along the way. She gave the driver our destination.
“So, where are we going?” I asked.
“To do what I thought you might have planned all along. I have to admit though,” she said, looking me up and down, “you might be overdressed for the occasion.”
“Now, that would be a first.”
She giggled again and snuggled up next to me. It was a short drive to our destination. Ari threw the guy some cash and then hopped out of the cab.
I did a double take when I realized where we were. “The Zell?” I asked in disbelief.
Ari had taken me from a fancy-ass restaurant to a mosh-pit music venue.
Forget everything I ever said about missing how easy it was to get ass. Who needed that when Aribel Graham shocked the shit out of me at every turn?
Okay…I still wanted pussy. But I fucking loved this girl.
“Who’s playing?”
“Edge of Reason,” she answered immediately. She purchased two tickets for us at the door. “Let’s hope they don’t suck.”
I laughed. At this point, who cared if they sucked?
Better yet, it turned out that they didn’t. The band was already playing the opening to their set for a medium-sized crowd. The bar was a dive. ContraBand had played here once when we first got started but never since. It had a good atmosphere but terrible acoustics. But I was so high on my night with Ari that nothing else even mattered.
A couple of songs in, Aribel left to take a phone call. I stayed to bask in the energy and adrenaline of the performance. At the end of that song, it was pretty fucking clear I needed a beer. I grabbed two from the bartender, so Ari could have one when she got back.
