Haughty Mrs. Armstrong didn’t care. “She might be from a good family, but that doesn’t mean she’s cut from the same cloth. That girl is trouble. Mark my words. Sow your wild oats with that one, and then go find a nice girl to settle down with. Her mother must be so ashamed to have such a brash and classless daughter. Don’t ever bring her back here.”
Livingston dropped his gaze to his lap as his mother looked up and caught me watching them from around the corner. She didn’t take back a single word or apologize. No, instead she tilted her head and raised a brow.
Bitch.
Livingston didn’t get to sow any more wild oats with me. I told the entire female Greek population at Amherst that his dick was too small to be bothered with, and he had to find girls from other schools to date until graduation.
That was the last time I let myself think about my future in terms of a single guy.
I’m not the marrying type, and while I fought not to take Mrs. Armstrong’s words to heart, she gutted me with one sentence of solid truth. My mother was ashamed, not only about me being brash and classless, but also about the fact that I refused to go to MIT and follow in my parents’ footsteps.
I ended up at Amherst, much to their disappointment, and they essentially washed their hands of me after that. So instead of becoming a studious little future scientist, I became something else entirely—the life of the party with no intention of ever settling down.
“Banner? Are you listening to me?”
I turn around with the vodka bottle in hand and shake myself free of the past. “Sorry, spaced out. What did you say?”
“Are you worried he’s not going to like you? I’m not sure that’s possible. Men love you. All of them.”
“Men love my tits, ass, and dirty mouth,” I reply, my tone flippant. My pride won’t let me admit that I’m terrified Logan Brantley won’t like the rest of me.
I’m being ridiculous. Screw him if he doesn’t like me. I’m awesome.
I remind myself I don’t care what anyone thinks, let alone some guy I’ll probably never see again.Why am I freaking out about this, anyway?
Taking a swig straight from the bottle, I focus on the smooth burn of the vodka sliding down my throat and announce, “We’re going out.”
Sofia throws both hands into the air, and I know she needs tonight as badly as I do. “Can I change in your bathroom? I didn’t want Mrs. Frances to see me get slutted up. Her words, not mine.”
I smile. “Yes, definitely. Get on with your slutty self.”
She giggles like the twenty-two-year-old girl it’s easy to forget she is, and pauses before turning toward the bathroom. “My skirt is so short, we won’t pay for drinks all night. It might not solve your question about the guy, but it couldn’t hurt.”
“I’ll worry about him tomorrow.”
Chapter 5
Logan
Istill haven’t gotten an address from Banner as I load up the Road Runner to head out before the sun rises tomorrow morning. I have half a mind to pull some strings and figure out where she lives on my own if she doesn’t respond. I’m not going to waste this chance just because she’s suddenly having cold feet. Besides, that’s not the woman I’ve gotten to know. She takes life head-on.
By the time I crank down the last ratchet strap, I decide I’m not gonna let her chicken out. Even without her address, I’m gonna meet Banner and satisfy my raging curiosity. Regardless of whatever else does or doesn’t happen, the least I can do is show her how a real man treats a woman.
As though I conjured it through my thoughts, my phone buzzes with a text message.
I pull it out, and a smile tugs at the corner of my mouth.
It’s an address. A second message comes through immediately after.
BANNERNYC: We’re not meeting at my place.
I type my reply.
LOGAN: You don’t trust me.
BANNERNYC: Maybe it’s me I don’t trust.
Well now, isn’t that an unexpected development.