I didn’t, of course, but I imagined. A few times, actually. The liquid spraying as it impacted his small, weasel-like expression. His eyes bulging as he realized what happened. Yeah…I’d thought about it. Tonight was the worst date of my life. I glanced at the clock, once again, hopeful enough time had passed for it to be acceptable to leave. This is why I hated being set up on blind-dates, especially from the neighboring frat house. I got creepy men who obviously never spoke to a girl before, or slimy losers who saw me as another lay. It got old. My friend, Leela, insisted on setting me up, and who could resist her adorable pout? Not me, obviously. So here I sat, poking the food around on my plate, head sunk in hand not caring it squished my cheek in an unflattering manner, while this weirdo droned on and on about who knows what. I quit listening at least fifteen minutes ago. The sudden silence from Mr. Talker caught my attention, only to be skewered by his eager eyes.
What do You think about Masked Encounters (Intoxicating Passion #1)?
