Wrong(19)

"You live on campus, correct?" he asks, breaking the silence.

He really is taking me home. This isn't some alpha-male power play that ends up with me in his bed.

"I was going to sleep with him," I say quietly, not answering his question. "I have your stupid condoms in my purse." I glance at him. Luke's silent, his eyes on the road. I turn my head away and watch the landscape slide past. "It's my choice who I sleep with, Dr. Miller. I'm not sure why you even gave me a bagful of condoms if you're just going to cockblock me from using them."

"Don't call me Dr. Miller."

That's his response? I turn back to look at him. "What did you say to my date, Luke?"

Luke glances at me before refocusing on the road. "I told him I’d drive you home.”

"Why?" I'm confused. “I don’t understand.”

Luke glances at me briefly. "It's not important. He's an asshole, Sophie. You deserve better."

"Why?” I demand.

We're nearing campus now and the speed limit drops. The interior of the car is quiet, the ride smooth.

"He was outside on the phone telling his buddy that if he couldn’t talk you into making a sex tape tonight he had another girl lined up for later.”

"Oh." I need to process that.

"Are you okay?" We're at a stoplight. He's looking at me. The tiny lines around his eyes are creased in concern. I stare back for a second before I erupt, louder than necessary in the silent car.

"I can't believe I waxed for that jerk!"

Luke looks taken aback as the car behind us honks. The light is green.

"I didn't even do it myself! Because apparently waxing yourself is just not done. Did you know that, Luke? I paid someone to give me a Brazilian wax. Do you know how embarrassing that is? To be spread naked on a table in front of a complete stranger? Do you? Wait." I throw my hands up in surrender. "Of course you do. You're a gynecologist. You see naked women in embarrassing positions all day long."

I slump in the passenger seat, placing my elbow on the window sill and resting my head on my hand. "Do all women get turned on when you examine them, Luke?" I don't wait for a reply. "Probably not. Even though you're crazy hot and have no right being a gyno, I bet normal women don't get wet when you walk into the room. I bet they don't go home and get themselves off imagining it's your hand instead of their own." He clears his throat, but I'm on a roll. "There's something wrong with me, Luke. I dated a gay guy for two years and now I have a gynecologist fetish." I give up propping my head up and just lean against the window.

"And I'm a shitty judge of character. I almost gave my virginity to an asshole who was going to record it." I shudder. "Eww." I sit up and twist in my seat towards him. "Do you want it, Luke? Because you can have it." I slide a hand up his thigh until I hit a very noticeable bulge. Hmm, I think someone does want me.

My hand is promptly removed and set back in my lap. Or not.

"Exactly how much have you had to drink tonight, Sophie?"

I cross my arms across my chest, rejected. It's not that far from the restaurants on Chestnut to campus. Luke's been circling the same block while I babbled. "I had a few glasses of wine, but I haven't eaten," I respond defensively. "Someone broke up my date before I had the chance."

"Which building do you live in?" Luke asks, turning right on Sansom Street as he loops the block again.

"I live in Jacobsen. Get back to 38th and then take a left on Spruce Street." I sigh, defeated. "Wait! I can't go back to my room! I told my roommate I wasn't coming back tonight. And Everly's in New York." I start to cry and I feel even more stupid than I did before. Tonight has been a storm of expectations, adrenaline and disappointment. I'm overwhelmed. It's fine, I tell myself. Everything will be fine. I can have Luke drop me off at the library. I'll find something to read until closing and then text Jeannie. I can sleep in the dorm lobby if I need to.

I'm wiping the tears off my face when I realize we've passed Jacobsen and are heading toward the river, away from campus. "Where are we going?" I ask.

"Home."

Home? His home? I glance at him, confused.

"I'll take you to my place until you can reach your roommate." He glances over at me. "Okay?"

"Yeah. That's fine." I'm silent for a minute. "Thank you." I relax into the seat. The digital clock on the dashboard reads 7:32 pm. I'm tired. A lot has happened in the last two hours. I'm a little buzzed from the wine too, if I'm being honest.

I have no idea where Luke lives, but we've crossed the river and now we're on 18th Street headed towards Rittenhouse Square. I want to ask, but I don't want to say anything to make him second-guess his decision.