ᴍʏ ᴋɪɴᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ ✩ ᴛᴢ11

SIXTEEN

penelope

i sit in the overly priced, non-inclusive steakhouse where not one thing on the menu sounds appetizing. not to mention i've got a beautiful man staring me down with nothing but adoration in his eyes but i can't even bring myself to feel flattered because i'm quite literally disgusted at the fact he's not trevor.

he's not trevor.

"did you hear me penelope?" nick waves his hand in front of my unfocused eyes.

i shake my head lightly. "sorry. what did you ask?"

he lets out a light chuckle. "i asked if anything sounds good to you."

not a damn thing dick. "yeah. the salmon caesar salad sounds amazing." i smile.

he raises an eyebrow and reaches across the table to caress my hand. i jump slightly at his contact. i feel somewhat guilty that i'm not all mentally there when nick is nice enough to take me out to dinner and actually try to get to know me.

"what's on your mind?" he asks.

"i'm sorry," i start. "i just had a long night."

he nods, seemingly interested. "oh nice! what'd you do?"

my eyes widen at his question. "well uh-i,"

nick looks at me like i'm having a stroke in front of him and right now i feel like i am because how am i supposed to explain that i slept with the man who i seemingly hated.

"it was just a lot of drinking." i finally spit out.

he laughs and takes a sip of his wine. his moscato wine. just wait until trevor hears about this.

"i know the feeling. i went to college at university of alabama. partied a lot there." he nods.

god this is so awkward i wish someone would have a sudden heart attack to save me from this disaster. i wish that someone having the heart attack was me.

"oh nice! what did you study?" i'm proud of my fake interest.

"didn't do much of studying there at all." he laughs. "i was on the football team and knew i would probably get drafted my senior year so it didn't really matter to me."

i nod my head. he keeps talking and i consider taking my steak knife and stabbing my eyes out slowing every time he says "bama" instead of "alabama."

"the nfl draft not the war." he swallows the last of his wine.

i sarcastically laugh. "i know what the draft is."

then it hits me. is he a professional football player? not that it would matter, getting a brain surgery without an anesthesia would be less painful than this. he's a nice guy, but unfortunately i've found he likes to talk about himself. he really likes to talk about himself.

"so how did you and trevor meet?" he snaps me out of my daydreaming for the second time in twenty minutes. i go to answer and am interrupted. "what even are you two anyway?" he laughs.

what is so funny to this man that he has to keep laughing.

"trevor and i met through mutual friends. my best friend celeste married his best friend jack. we met about, i don't know-five years ago? give or take a few." i shrug.

he nods and leans back in his chair. "so...what are you guys?"

i shake my head. "right. it's complicated really-"

"holy shit. i'm on a date with another dudes girl." he nearly falls out of his chair.

"no! we're not together, never have been." i say but wish i would have saved my breath because maybe he would have kicked me out. "we have never really gotten along so our friends gifted us this trip after we were the maid of honor and best man in their wedding, but we didn't know the other was coming. yeah, i think it was a last resort plan in hopes to get us to like each other." i giggle.