The aggravating double Ding! from my cell phone intrudes on our intimacy and I curse it under my breath. Dorian and I gaze at each other, still high on each other’s flavor and craving more. But the moment has passed; the magic has dissipated and we are back in the here and now.
“I better go,” I say, wishing Dorian would beg me not to. He looks slightly dismayed but doesn’t respond so I gather my coat and purse.
“Friday,” he says as I reach for the door handle.
“Friday,” I smile. I open the door and swing my legs out of the car as gracefully as I can. I turn to Dorian just before I rise. “Dorian, what is your last name?” The question has been gnawing at me all day. It’s only right; I have locked lips with him twice already. Score one for college sluts!
Dorian looks at me, his expression searching yet somewhat tortured as if he would really rather not tell me. Resignation washes over him.
“Skotos,” he replies, accenting the word in a foreign tongue. It sounds European; Greek maybe. That would explain Dorian’s exotic good looks.
“Well, goodnight Dorian Skotos,” I say, careful to pronounce it correctly, and with that I gently close the car door and make my way to mine. Dorian waits until I am safely inside my Honda before pulling off. I quickly start it up and pull away before risking a repeat of the night before.
Chapter Six
“Where the hell have you been?” Morgan shrieks from my phone. I’m lying on my bed, flicking mindlessly through the channels on my bedroom TV.
“I’ve been around. I called you earlier… Didn’t you get my message?” I decide on some train wreck reality housewives show.
“Uh, yeah, and I’ve called you back at least a dozen times since then!” She’s still fired up, no doubt being overly dramatic as always.
“No you didn’t. I only got one missed call and I called you back as soon as I got back home!” Now, I’m getting annoyed.
“Gabs, I swear it. I’ve been calling you all day. Even went by the mall to see you at work and your boss said you’d left early.” She sounds worried so I remove the phone from my ear and take another look at hit. Nope, only one missed call.
“Humph, guess my phone is on the fritz. Sorry. What’s up, girl?”
“I was just worried. And you said you have something juicy to share!” I can hear the familiar clinking of her oversized earring on the receiver.
“Well, kinda,” I reply sheepishly. “I’ve been seeing Dorian.”
“Dorian? Dorian who?” I hear her rustling through what sounds like her makeup bag. “Wait! Not the guy from the club? That Dorian?!” she exclaims.
“Yes, that Dorian,” is all I can say before she yips a combination of praise and expletives.
“Oh. My. God. Gabs, that is awesome! Whew! So I guess he’s not as creepy as he appeared to be on Thursday, huh?”
“No, not as creepy. Though I must say he is quite intense. Not to mention intimidatingly sexy. I straight up lose my head around him,” I admit. And I would love to lose my panties as well.
“Well if anyone can handle him, it’s you. I’m just so happy for you! So you’ve gone on a date with him? How was it? Did you guys hook up? Oooh, you dirty ho!” she squeals excitedly.
“Well, actually we’ve been on two dates. And what do you mean by ‘hook up’? Did we have sex? Hell no! I just met the guy.” But do I want to? Hell yes! Morgan doesn’t need to know all that though.
“But you like him, right? Two dates in two days is pretty major for you, Miss No Dude Will Ever Be Good Enough… other than Jared, that is,” she snickers.
“I never said that! Just no guys are really worth getting serious with. And what do you mean, other than Jared?” Oh crap. Am I that transparent? I’ve never disclosed how I felt about Jared.
“Mmmm hmmm, you might be able to fool everyone else, but I know my girl. Seems like Dorian might change all that though. Look at you… already flaking on your friends for him!” I know she’s joking but I can’t help but feel some irritation. I’ve never been that type of girl. “Anyway, are you getting ready?”
“Ready? For what?”
“Uh, do you not know what today is? It’s St. Patrick’s Day! You know we’re all going to O’Malley’s tonight!” she says is disbelief.
Shit! I totally forgot. And I really, really don’t feel like going. Not to mention, I still haven’t lived down last year’s fiasco.
“Awww, Morg, can’t I pass this year? I’m really tired.” I whine.
“Hell no, you cannot! It’s a tradition! And you had enough energy to play kissy face with Mr. Hot Ass. You are going, Gabriella Winters!” she shouts. Ugh, Morgan can be a total pain in my ass when she wants to be.