“A double date?” Taytum shakes her head. “No. No way. You already get to see the guys who swipe right, and now you want to come along on a date with me…for what?” she shrieks. “You want to watch me get railed by one of them too?”
I choke on air at the visual, and I can’t decide if I’m angry at the thought or turned on. Maybe both? Which, honestly, is just as bad.
Taytum climbs back onto the stage in her stupid little leotard that does nothing to help my wild thoughts. Our kiss awoke something in me, and I’m afraid the only way it’s going to fall dormant again is if she’s the one to shut it down. Which is precisely why I need her to be more active on the dating app I set her up on. She needs to be swept off her feet by some guy who isn’t me, and I need to sit back and watch so I can be put in my place. As each day passes, our subtle touches are becoming less playful and more tempting.
I know she feels the chemistry just as profoundly as I do, because her pupils dilate every single time we touch. It’s messing with my head.
“What’s up?” Theo takes a seat beside me, and I click out of the dating app on my phone. He sends me a sideways glance when he looks from the screen and then back to my face. “Having trouble finding a girl you haven’t fucked yet?”
“As if I wouldn’t double dip,” I say.
He chuckles. “Then why are you on Bex Hex?”
Bex Hex is the school’s dating app that some college dropout created and now makes millions from. It’s in the opening bio before you set up your profile, along with some inspirational shit, like how he was a nerd and couldn’t score a girl until he started online dating.
Now, I imagine he’s having pussy for breakfast, lunch, and dinner because of how deep his pockets go.
Good for him, though.
“I’m not,” I answer.
Theo eyes me suspiciously, and I turn back to the stage to watch Taytum.
“Ah,” he laughs under his breath. “Gotta do a background check on every guy who’s trying to get with Em’s sister?”
Something like that.
“Does he know she’s on a dating app?”
I’m quick to answer, “No. And don’t tell him.”
Theo scoffs. “I’m not getting anywhere near that drama.”
The music starts, and most of the ballerinas are on the stage, working on their opening act for next month’s showcase. The number of rehearsals I’ve sat through is endless, yet I never mind tagging along when Taytum is dancing.
She is a ray of sunshine up there. I effortlessly follow her leaps and twirls, and the rest of the dancers fall into a blur. Taytum’s blonde hair is pinned in a bun, but there are a few curly tendrils hanging around her face. My breath hitches when she pops up from a split leap to smile brightly at Claire, who takes the next eight count.
“They were both born to dance, huh?” Theo muses, clearly in a trance while Claire moves across the stage.
I nod, and we watch the rest of the dance in silence. As soon as the music cuts off, the air shifts, and I know Theo is staring at me.
“Take a picture. It’ll last longer.”
He ignores my immature joke and sighs. “You’re Walker, aren’t you?”
My spine straightens.
Ever so slowly, I twist and peer at him through a squint. He’s smirking, and I don’t like that the roles have reversed between us. A warning is going to come out of his mouth next, but he doesn’t have to say it because I already know, so I beat him to the punch. “It’s under control.”
Actually, I am fully fucking out of control when it comes to Taytum, but Theo doesn’t need to know that, and neither does she.
He laughs so loudly Professor Petit gives us a dirty look over her shoulder. Theo lowers his voice. “Yeah, just like I had it under control with Claire.”
I shake my head. “That’s different. You two were fake dating. Of course you’d fall for her. You were together all the time, touching…kissing… fucking.”
Theo’s grin deepens. “The only difference between me and Claire faking our relationship is that we did it in public. You can fall for Taytum even if it’s behind closed doors.” He leans back, and his chair squeaks. “Trust me. I fell for Claire in the quiet moments when no one was watching.”
I want to tell him to fuck off, just like he used to tell me whenever I’d tease him about falling for her, but instead, I open up the dating app under her profile and message every guy that has swiped right.
Taytum is going to go on a date with someone, and I’m going to have to swallow the bitter pill.
I reread the conversation between Taytum and a guy named Jack. Except, her name isn’t Taytum on the app. It’s Belle. Because even if Emory isn’t on Bex Hex, some of the hockey players are, and he’ll be the first person they turn to if they find her on there.
It’s partly why I cut her face off when uploading her profile picture.
The other part is because my selfishness didn’t want anyone to see her face.
I flip through the various messages that Taytum has been engaged in for the past few days. How can someone who flirts endlessly with me be so naive to all the signs these guys are giving to her? It’s like she isn’t even trying.
I spot her across the hall as the entire hockey team, plus some others that live in the athletic dorm, gather for the football watch party. Bexley U’s football team is up against a hard opponent for the college football championship, and we’re all cheering them on. Taytum jumps up and cheers beside one of her sorority sisters. Her shirt rides up a little too far—the same shirt that Emory rolled his eyes at from the snug fit—and shows off the purple bruise a few inches from her belly button.
I know it’s from her insulin injections, and my first instinct is to take her off to the side, rub the sore spot, and then spend all night relearning how to do the injections so they don’t hurt.
I spin around, irritated that the more days that stack in front of our kiss, the more I think about her. I mean, she’s always been in the back of my head, but feeling those lips against mine sent her into my bloodstream.
My teeth grind against one another. I try to focus on the flatscreen one of the soccer players set up at the end of the hall, but I’m too antsy. I follow Rush on the TV when he does a fake play, but as soon as I hear Taytum’s girly laughter from behind, I open the app, log out of her profile, and make another.
Fake name. Check.
Fake bio. Check.
Discreet profile pic. Check.
I search the name Belle and smile deviously when her profile pops up. I swipe right, and to my surprise, it only takes a few minutes for her to accept the chat.
Emory is paying me no attention at all with his eyes on the game, so I decide to play my own game.
I’ll be on the losing side by the end of the night, but after I’m through with her, Taytum will surely score.
Hopefully, it’ll snap me back into shape, and I’ll score too.
But definitely not with her.
