“I don’t have anything to wear,” I bluffed.
“You can wear one of my dresses.”
I shot her a dubious expression. Mya was five-nine and built like a gazelle. I was more of the pony variety. I pushed the food around my plate. “I don’t know what to say to him. I feel silly just showing up.”
She rolled her eyes. “He wouldn’t have invited you if he wasn’t interested.”
“I can’t just go to some bar. What if we don’t get in?”
“Get in where?”
I turned around, surprised by the sound of Fleur’s voice. She stood over the table, her long hair pulled back in a high ponytail. She was dressed in workout clothes—a hot-pink stretchy top and fitted black pants. Trust Fleur to make going to the gym a fashion show.
“To this bar in Chelsea,” Mya answered, ignoring my dirty looks. “Cobalt. Have you heard of it?”
She shrugged. “Yeah, it’s a decent place. Who is going?”
“Me and Maggie.”
“We haven’t decided yet,” I corrected. As much as I didn’t want to go to Cobalt, I really didn’t want to go to Cobalt with Fleur.
Fleur sat down in the chair opposite mine, not bothering to wait for an invitation to join us. “Why Cobalt?”
She posed the question to Mya, ignoring me.
I shot Mya a look.
“Maggie met a guy at Babel. He owns Cobalt and invited her to stop in to say hi.” Mya wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.
Fleur’s gaze shifted to me, lingering on my face. Her eyes narrowed for a moment—I had no idea what she saw there but I couldn’t help but feel I’d been judged and found wanting.
“What are you going to wear?” There was just a hint of scorn in her voice.
“She’s going to borrow one of my dresses,” Mya volunteered. Her eyes lit up. “Why don’t you do her hair and makeup?”
Fleur shrugged. “Why not? I don’t have any plans tonight anyway.” Her voice trailed off and a frown crossed her face.
A boy, the likes of which I had only seen in movies, strolled in with a stunning brunette tucked against his side. He had similar coloring to Fleur’s, his dark hair and eyes suggesting some Greek or Italian heritage. For a moment his gaze traveled over the table, before it stopped, lingering on Fleur.
She stiffened, ducking her gaze. She pushed back from the table.
What was that about?
“Fine, we’ll meet at nine.”
I blinked. Did Fleur actually just make a plan to hang out with me? Part of me wanted to go. Part of me was still scared. Hugh had been cute—and he’d seemed a little interested in me. I didn’t want to spend my college years single. Besides Jo had a point. I needed to be more spontaneous, needed to put myself out there more. I did not need to focus on a certain kiss I couldn’t get out of my mind.
“Fine. But no guys, okay?”
Fleur nodded, her voice sounding relieved. “It’ll be a girls’ night.”
She left, leaving me and Mya sitting alone at the table.
“What was that about?”
Mya shrugged. “She hasn’t been herself lately. I think she’s mellowing a bit.”
I gaped at her. “You mean this is Fleur, less bitchy?”
“Less high-strung, at least,” Mya said with a smile.
I jerked my head toward where the Italian/Greek guy sat with the bombshell. “What was the deal with that? Who is he?”
Mya frowned. “Fleur’s ex, Costa.”
“Was that the guy she dated before Samir?”
Mya laughed. “They’re not a couple.”
Everything stopped. “What do you mean they’re not a couple?”
“Fleur and Samir? Not even kind of.”
“But they’re always together,” I sputtered.
Now that I thought about it, I’d never seen them kiss or anything. And Samir didn’t really look at Fleur like that. But I’d just assumed…
“They’re friends. Besides, Samir’s kind of a player. I don’t think he does girlfriends. He kind of has bad idea written all over him.”
I’d noticed. Too bad my body hadn’t gotten the memo.
* * *
I waited for Fleur and Mya on the front steps. I was beyond nervous. I didn’t do things like this—chase after a guy. At least the old version of me didn’t. I wasn’t quite sure what to make of the new me. She seemed a little reckless.
“Hot date?”
My head jerked up as my stomach did a somersault. I knew that voice.
Samir stood in front of me, dressed in a collared dress shirt and jeans. A flush spread across my cheeks.
“Maggie?”
“Hi.” It came out as a squeak.
Was it my imagination or did his gaze sweep over my body, lingering on my boobs? I crossed my arms over my chest.
He grinned. “You look good.”
So do you.
“Thanks.”
“On your way out?”
“Girls’ night with Fleur and Mya.”
His smile widened. “So you and Fleur made peace?”
I laughed. “I wouldn’t say we made peace. That might be overly optimistic.”
“You’d be surprised. She’s not so bad. It just takes her awhile to warm up to people.”
That seemed like the understatement of the year, but I let it slide. I still couldn’t get past the fact that they weren’t dating.
Samir shoved his hands in his front jeans pockets, a flash of tan skin showing at the motion. My gaze was riveted to the spot. My fingers itched to reach out and touch him there. I fisted my hands on my hips.
“So are we going to talk about it?”
I jerked my head up. A knowing smile spread across Samir’s lips. An awkward tension filled the air between us. It was strange to think that on one hand we’d been more intimate than I’d ever been with anyone and yet he still felt like a total stranger.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I bluffed.
He quirked a brow at me, his head tilted to the side, his expression considering. “So that’s how you’re going to play it?”
“Pretty much.”
I knew I was the polar opposite of smooth, but I didn’t know what to say to him.
Samir grinned. “Fine. I have my memories to keep me company.” He winked at me. “And believe me, I have plenty of good memories.”
I reached out and shoved him, the move reflexive, my hand fisting the expensive fabric of his shirt. I froze mid-motion, my hand clutching the fabric, half-pulling him towards me, half-pushing him away.
Samir’s voice deepened, grew seductive. “Why won’t you admit you want me? It was pretty obvious when your body was wrapped around mine.”
I flushed. “My body was never wrapped around yours,” I snapped, releasing my hold on his shirt. “It was a