“That is adorable.” She made a puppy dog face.
“Right? It’s nice to finally make it official.” I set the menu down. “What about—I mean, you and Dallas. You guys still haven’t had that talk? If I’m being nosy, just tell me, and I’ll shut up. We can blame it on too much time with Chase.”
Shiv laughed at my last comment, then her expression sobered. “We had a fight about that last night, actually.” She pursed her lips, looking away.
“You did?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Some guy hit on me, and Dallas got pissy over it. I turned the guy down, so what does it matter? But then he tried to give me an ultimatum. I mean, he didn’t phrase it that way. It was more of an ‘are you in or not’ type of thing?”
I sucked in a breath. “How did you guys leave it?”
“A little frosty. But we’ve had this argument before. It’ll probably blow over.” She shrugged. “It’s not like I want to date anyone else.”
“But…” I prompted her.
She winced. “What if making it official changes things?”
“That doesn’t mean it’ll change for the worse,” I said gently. “It could change things for the better.”
At least that’s what I was hoping for with Chase. Not that there was much to improve on. But I felt more secure in our relationship now. Hopefully, I could work through some of my residual trust hang-ups. Might take a while, though.
Shiv frowned at her Diet Coke. “This is going to sound stupid. Like, really stupid. But I honestly never thought of it that way.”
“If Dallas was anything like your ex, you wouldn’t still be with him.”
“I know.” She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’m crazy about the guy. He’s right there in front of me. The man’s perfect. What the hell is wrong with me?”
I shrugged. “Once burned, twice shy. I get it.”
“Honestly, I’m this close to taking the leap.” She held her thumb and pointer finger an inch apart. “I just need to wrap my head around it.”
After we ordered, our conversation turned to the reason we were here: living arrangements. At this point, we’d narrowed our apartment selections down to two. The unit I had liked initially, plus another new one that had come onto the market when its prospective tenant fell through at the last minute. It was one hundred dollars more per month, which wasn’t totally make-or-break, but still a factor.
Shiv took a sip of her drink, then slumped over the table. “I hate making decisions,” she said, muffled by her arm.
“Me too,” I admitted. Between the both of us, it was a tough combination. “The possession date for the first one is in four weeks. But the new unit on Pine is available almost immediately.”
“Right,” she said, glancing up at me. “As soon as we clear reference checks, get the deposit, and all of that.”
Shiv was fronting almost all of the deposit. She claimed not to care—Chase said her parents were loaded, which was probably why—but I hated feeling like I was freeloading.
Then my phone vibrated. I glanced down, expecting a text from Chase. But it was from Amelia: Found someone who wants your room. They want to move in within two weeks.
I wrote her back: Fine.
“Okay.” I locked my phone and set it down again. “Sorry about that. What are your thoughts on going with the unit on Pine? That was Amelia, and they found someone to take my room. I need to be out in two weeks.”
It wasn’t about the money so much as getting the hell out of there. And this was the push I needed. Being away from that toxic environment would be a relief.
The server set down Shiv’s chicken quesadilla, then my buffalo chicken sandwich.
“If it makes the decision for us, maybe all the better,” she said, dipping her quesadilla into the little bowl of salsa. “Then we don’t have to agonize over it.”
“Do we have an agreement then?”
“Yep.” She nodded, doing a little dance in her seat. “I’ll email the rental agent. I’m excited!”
“Me too,” I said honestly, grabbing my sandwich. With an escape plan solidified, food had never looked so good.
My phone vibrated again. I expected a snarky follow-up from Amelia, but it was a text from Zara.
Zara: Good news, bad news. Liam just quit. Sports section is all yours! But that means you need to cover that volleyball tournament out of town. Sorry, I know it’s short notice.
I let out a gasp. “Oh my god.”
Shiv frowned. “Everything okay?”
“Everything is great,” I said, staring at the screen in giddy disbelief. “I just got a promotion at the school newspaper.”
This was the experience I needed to build my portfolio for after college. If I landed the paid internship, the combination of the two would look seriously impressive to potential employers.
Except…this meant I’d be attending more Bulldogs games. And, like, interacting with the team to get quotes and conduct interviews.
Ugh. Talk about a double-edged hockey stick.
After finishing up dinner with Siobhan, I texted Chase about the volleyball tournament. Now that I was handling the entire sports section alone, it was even more imperative that I attend. Although I didn’t mind having an excuse to take a day trip with him.
Bailey: What’s your schedule like the Saturday after next?
Chase: Practice at eight Saturday, off Sunday.
Bailey: Perfect. I have an exciting proposition for you.
Chase: Keep talking.
Bailey: I’ve got my hands on a pair of super hot tickets to…
Bailey: Callingwood’s volleyball game in Roseford.
Chase: And I have the text version of blue balls.
Chase: Just kidding. If it’s with you, I’m down.
Bailey: It’s our team’s finals. But…it’s 1.5 hours away, early Saturday afternoon. Does that work? I would give you gas money.
Chase: Of course, and not a chance.
Bailey: You never let me pay for things.
Chase: Never will. Sorry, James.
OceanofPDF.com
CHAPTER 34
OceanofPDF.com
PERSONAL SHOPPER
Bailey
I perched at the table in the Callingwood Daily office with Noelle and Zara, trying to finish my part of a group project for Ethical Issues in Journalism and Communications. Knowing I’d see Chase later always made it difficult to focus, but today was especially challenging because he was picking me up later for the volleyball game—followed by sex toy shopping.
What had I gotten myself into?
I hadn’t even told Noelle or Zara, though I knew they’d cheer me on if I did.
“Bailey,” Professor Johnson said, lingering in the doorway. “Can we chat quickly in my office for a moment?”
I glanced up from my laptop. “Sure.” I shut it quickly and slid it into my bag, then followed her out of the room and down the hall to her office.
Professor Johnson was the epitome of laid-back, down to her untameable frizzy gray hair and colorful floor-length skirts. A hippie in her youth, she’d racked up countless journalism awards for her coverage of international affairs. As our faculty advisor for the paper, she tended to give us a long leash. But she did check in with us every now and then when we needed guidance or when something went truly off the rails.