Hot for the Ranger (Hot for Heroes #8) - Ember Flint Page 0,2

on and on about truncating longer names down to shorter monikers if you really want to be hip with the times and she’s been nagging the heck out of me for days to stop calling her ‘Veronica’ and use her glamorous nicknames.

“Be as it may, Vero-Nica, but I wouldn’t wear this thingy to bed, let alone put it on for a night out. If you want me to come and keep an eye on the guy, I will, but I’ll wear whatever the fuck I please or the deal’s off.”

She stomps toward the bathroom. “Whatever! Suit yourself! Look silly in one of your sundresses if you please, sweetie, or wear leggings and pink sneakers like a twelve-year-old, why don’t you?! Let’s just get out of here, we’re about to be unfashionably late.”

—*—

I’m freaking seething, I can’t believe her. She’s such a conniving bitch, ugh!

First, she said her online guy, Victor, was waiting for us at the bar in a ‘nearby restaurant’ that turned out to be an open-air beach club with loud pounding music, drunken revelers, and half-naked girls who think this is some sort of tryout for Spring Break all over the place.

And then… well, she really did save the worst for last.

I’m so mad, my hands are shaking and I’m sloshing the probably spiked drink all over the place to my unexpected blind date’s disappointment.

I swear to God, I’m this close to getting up and leaving. One more pervy leer toward my tits and I’m outta here.

I wasn’t meant to be a third wheel or stop her from ending up dead in a ditch somewhere, after all, oh no: Victor brought a buddy along and they needed a fourth.

She’s such a liar, I can’t get over any of this.

At first, I felt bad for the guy, I mean how fucking horrible it can be to think you’re going on a double date that’s all planned and then find out the girl who is supposed to spend the evening with you has no clue whatsoever this had been set up?!

Took me two minutes in Barry-Whatever’s presence to get over feeling sorry for him or his friend for ruining their evening with my reluctancy to be sociable.

For one thing, these guys may be good-looking, in a sort of smarmy, psycho-stay-away-from-me way, but they are like in their late forties and we’re twenty-one.

I don’t think age should stand in the way of true love or anything, but this is hardly the case here: I could spot the tan lines from their wedding rings a mile away.

But still, I figured I could put a big metaphorical ‘not interested’ sign up and still be a good-sport and act amicable toward the guy since my roommate is determined to fall all over herself to be with Victor.

Boy, did my plan nosedive or what!

I’m not that experienced with dating and men in general and much of my positive knowledge about love comes from the one too many romance novels I’ve read but are dudes really this horribly crass?!

This weirdo with a wife —and probably kids and a dog— at home waiting for him, was barely done with giving me his name before he started making innuendos about us going away together and disgusting little comments about my breasts.

Then when I don’t respond like he expects me to —I honestly don’t know what he wanted me to say besides calling him a rude prick which is what I did— he stalks away, only to come back with a drink, an apology for ‘jumping the gun’ and a serial killer little fake smile.

Like I’m gonna drink a single drop of this crap. I might be willing to give people chances, yes, I’m an optimist at heart after all, but despite what both my stepmother and my roommate believe, I wasn’t born yesterday!

I firmly put the drink down on the little oval corner table and look up at Mr. Creep. “I’m not thirsty, thank you.”

The asshole looks me up and down and purses his lips. “I paid for it, you know.”

“Well, I didn’t ask for a drink, you took it upon yourself to get me one. Also, I haven’t touched it so you can totally drink it yourself, can’t you?” I pick the glass up and offer it to him.

He looks at the cocktail and then back at me. “I’m the designated driver, I can only have one drink.”

I scoff, such a dirtbag. “Right,” I say slowly, and push further away from him until I’m about to