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“It’s amazing. Even better than I thought it would be.”
“I’m so jealous.”
I grinned. “Whatever. You’re probably hanging out with all the frat guys at Carolina.”
“Okay, yeah, maybe I’ve been to a few parties.”
Jo was my oldest and closest friend. We met in the fifth grade when her mom forgot to pack her a lunch and I shared my pretzels with her. From that lunch we hit it off, despite the fact that we were an odd pairing. While I spent most of high school studying and focusing on Harvard, Jo spent her high school years partying with the football team.
“So how are the guys? Any hot British guys?”
I grinned. Trust Jo to get to the good stuff. “I did meet one.”
“Spill.”
I filled Jo in on the Hugh story, not in the least surprised by her excited squeals.
“Are you going to go to his bar?”
I hadn’t really thought about it. After everything that happened that night, Hugh hadn’t exactly been at the forefront of my mind.
“I don’t know.”
“Have you met anyone else? Have you kissed anyone yet?”
I blushed, grateful she couldn’t see my face. “Sort of.”
Jo shrieked into the phone. “Oh, my god, Maggie. I can’t believe I missed your first kiss. I need details on these things.”
I laughed. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I’ve been a bad friend. I should have called you instantly and filled you in.”
“Well, you can make it up to me now. Spill. Now.”
There was no way to tell the story and not come across looking like a bit of a ho.
“It’s not what you think. The guy is kind of an ass.”
“So why did you kiss him?”
“It just sort of happened. I don’t know. We were both drinking a lot, and then we were dancing, and we kissed. It was just a random, one-time thing.”
“Was it good?”
I hesitated. So good I couldn’t stop thinking about it. “Yeah, it was.”
“Are you going to do it again?”
Only in the strangely erotic dreams I couldn’t seem to shake.
“Nope.”
There was a pause on the end of the line.
I sighed. “Fine. What?”
“I’m not saying anything.”
“I know you aren’t. I’ve also known you long enough to know that means something. So spill.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way—”
I laughed. “Well, that’s an encouraging start.”
“I just want you to be happy.”
“I am happy.”
“You do realize that making out with a random guy is the first spontaneous thing I’ve probably ever seen you do.”
“That’s not fair,” I protested. “I came to London. What was that if not spontaneous?”
“Okay, fine. You’re right. You going to London was a little spontaneous. But you have to admit, you weren’t really going outside of your comfort zone. You’ve been talking about London since we were kids.”
“And drunkenly making out with a random guy is now your definition of spontaneity?”
“For you? Yes.”
Silence filled the line. I thought back to the dreams I’d been having since the night Samir and I kissed at Babel. This shit was way more complicated than I expected it to be. “I don’t know how to handle him. He’s way out of my league.”
“Try.”
“And he’s dating my roommate.”
“YOU KISSED YOUR ROOMMATE’S BOYFRIEND?”
I winced. “Thanks, Jo. I don’t think they heard you in Lithuania. He kissed me. But yeah, pretty much. And she’s an überbitch, so I’m just waiting for this to get out and her to kill me. Not to mention the fact that I’ve probably broken like fifty girl codes.”
Jo sighed. “Oh, Mags. When you go in, you go all in.”
“Tell me about it.”
* * *
“So what’s on the agenda for tonight?” Mya leaned back in her chair, pushing a half-eaten plate of food away.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Want to watch a movie or something? I should probably get started on homework.”
Mya frowned at me. “It’s Friday night. We just got through our first week of school. We’re not staying in and watching a movie. And homework is definitely out of the question. My brain needs a break.” Her eyes lit up. “Let’s go to Cobalt.”
Apparently filling her in on meetin Hugh had been a mistake. “Absolutely not. No way.”
“Why not? You said you liked the guy. The least you could do is check out his bar.”
The idea of seeing Hugh again sent a little thrill down my spine. And a wave of nausea in my stomach. Showing up at Hugh’s bar required balls I just didn’t have.
“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?”
