“It’s rude!” I practically shout, voice echoing, bouncing off the tile walls. “We don’t have our purses!”

“Valid point.”

“Jack being a dick isn’t good enough reason to bail without saying goodbye.” I hunt for the end of the toilet paper, dipping my head to peer under the dispenser. Find it and wipe. “You’ve called him a dickhead three times.”

“Because he is a prickhead! I’m being generous.”

“How kind of you,” I mutter, pulling up my underwear and jeans as I stand, flushing the toilet with the tip of my shoe. Join Hannah by the sinks to wash my hands.

She’s watching me through the mirror. “Want me to try to give you time with Abe? I’m willing to take one for the team and get that dick back to the bar if you want to be alone with Wrestler McHottie. Did you see his hands? My. God.”

Yes, I did notice his hands. Large hands. Strong fingers…

“Why would you do that?”

Our reflections are an old western showdown. “Duh. He’s into you. JB isn’t.”

“He isn’t?”

“No. He is into himself.” She stops drying her hands to turn and stare at me blankly. “Did you hear any of what I just said?”

Douche. Dick.

Prickhead.

That’s a new one; I should stop her before she creates new, more creative insults, but I’m curious to see where she’ll go with this.

“Yes. You just said JB isn’t into me.”

Her head shakes. “No, Skylar. I’m talking about the part where I said Abe is into you—the critical part of the storyline. That boy is beautiful and hot, and you’d be an idiot not to go back out there and flirt with him.”

“Have you forgotten? I am on a date with his roommate right now!” What the hell is wrong with her?

“So? I’ll distract that sack of crap you’re here with, and you get to know the one who can’t stop staring at you.”

“Don’t you dare, Hannah—I will kill you.”

“Please. I agreed to this little farce we’re calling a double date as a favor. Now do yourself a favor—ditch the idiot for the guy who seems to really like you.” She suddenly shifts gears, softening her approach. “Skylar, every time you open your mouth to talk, he smiles.”

“Shut up, he does not.” Does he?

“Wanna make a bet?”

Yes. “Pfft. No!”

Hannah leans against the counter, which has somehow become completely saturated with water. “I bet you, the next time you talk, the corners of Abe’s mouth turn up like this.” Her lips twitch slightly, curving into a miniscule grin. She taps the corner of her mouth with the tip of her finger to show me how he’ll smile. “Just like this. You’ll see what I mean—all you have to do is speak.”

I roll my eyes. She’s delirious.

“You’re so clueless sometimes, Skylar. You could march back out there and announce to the boys that you have your period, and Abe would smile like an idiot. It couldn’t be more obvious that he thinks you’re cute, but he’s not going to make a move—not with dipshit sitting there. Bro code and all that.”

Would he? Would he have been into me if I’d met him first?

He would have swiped on me in a heartbeat…

Or had he just said that to be polite? He seems like the type that knows manners—when and what to say to avoid hurting someone’s feelings.

“Take the bet, Sky. You’ll see what I’m talkin’ about.”

I shoot her a dark scowl. “I’m not making any more bets with you.”

This wouldn’t be the first time; Hannah loves making bets. Harmless ones for the most part, to liven things up.

“Come on.” She nudges me with an elbow then presses her hands together pleadingly. “Take a chance.”

“All I’ve been doing lately is taking chances, thanks to you. I didn’t want to download that stupid app in the first place, and now look at the mess I’m in!” I ball up the brown paper towel I used to dry my hands and toss it in the trash can. “I’m on a date with a guy who is nothing like he is online. It’s as if he’s not even the same person!”

Hannah ignores my ranting. “I bet you my car.”

“Your car?!” Is she insane?

She rolls her eyes. “I mean you can drive it for a week. You can’t have the damn thing—I’m not insane.”

Oh.

Still. Her car is a sweet ride, while mine is a total piece of shit.

“You know you want to.” She should start a career in sales; she knows how to relentlessly browbeat me into submission. I’m such a chump.

But I do really like her car…

“Fine.” I say it like she’s putting me out. “It’s a bet.”

Hannah literally rubs her hands together. “Oh, this is gonna be good…”

Dammit. She’s right.

Every time I’ve opened my mouth to talk, Abe has smiled. Oh, he hides it well enough; I’ll give him kudos for that, burying his mouth in the collar of his shirt or coughing so no one sees him.

No one but me.

And Hannah, the eagle eye out to prove a point.

But sure enough, there it is again, plastered to his face, making me blush and squirm in my seat, and resent the guy I’m here on a date with.

JB has done nothing to redeem himself in the time we’ve been sitting at this table, picking at the appetizers we finally ordered.

If anything, he’s more arrogant and flippant with an audience than he was on our first date.

“Abe, tell me.” Hannah touches Abe’s forearm, purposely trailing a finger along the firm muscles. “Do you date much? You seem like a great catch, so where are you hiding yourself?”

Oh brother. She sounds like a forty-year-old woman out on the prowl.

I try not to groan out loud.

“Abe date?” JB laughs rudely.

“He’s on one now, isn’t he?” Hannah volleys back, removing her hand from her date’s arm.

“Abe here is always the bridesmaid, never the bride.” He claps a huge hand on his friend’s shoulder, giving him a shake that’s slightly aggressive for the circumstances. “Ain’tcha, buddy.”

Abe’s nostrils flare and he chooses that moment to lift his ice water and chug down a healthy swig, downing half the glass in a single swallow.

“Wow. You just keep racking up the douche points, don’t you?”

JB’s brows shoot clear up into his hairline, expression incredulous. “What the hell did I say now?”

Hannah leans back against the booth, crossing her arms over her pair of amazing boobs. She plucks an imaginary piece of lint off her gray sweater. “You think you’re the only catch at this table? Please.”

JB’s grin is slow and lazy and directed at my roommate’s cleavage. “Are you talking about yourself?”

“Um, no—I’m talking about Abe. I bet he could give you a run for your money if your head wasn’t stuck up your own ass.” Hannah straightens in her seat. “You’re the kind of guy who cockblocks his friends, aren’t you? Even if a girl was into Abe, you’re the douchey friend who swoops in and steals her away to be a dick. Aren’t you?”