The Hotshot by Myra Scott

Author:Myra Scott [Scott, Myra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-05-08T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN - CASEY

I was so nervous I thought my heart was going to burst right out of my chest. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, I was staring at my reflection and trying to figure out how the hell I had landed myself in this situation. Why had I agreed so readily to a date like this? Going to a charity concert at a crowded upscale casino with a guy I had only met once and promptly made a fool out of myself in front of sounded like a stress nightmare. This event ticked a lot of boxes for me: loud, crowded, probably bright lights, and the undivided attention of a ridiculously handsome, charming man. I could not figure out for the life of me why a guy like Luke would ever be interested in me. Perhaps it was all a very elaborate prank or something.

“Stop. Stop doing that,” I told myself out loud, glaring at my own reflection. “Dr. Waltham told you to stop catastrophizing like this. It will be okay. You deserve a night out with a hot guy. Maybe he’s just really, truly into you.”

And now I was talking to myself. Great. I rolled my eyes and took a slow, deep breath. It was going to be alright. I was going to survive this. Hell, I was even going to make a valiant effort to have fun for once. Besides, I had just about exhausted all my usual means of passing the time. I had worked out in the apartment complex gym twice a day every day so far. I had baked approximately twelve different kinds of desserts and made myself a full three-course meal almost every single night. I had watched all the episodes of the few TV shows I cared enough to watch and was all caught up now. I had even pulled out my woodworking tools to start building a chair from scratch, while drinking a beer and listening to free online how-to guides about carpentry.

Because it wasn’t enough to just do one activity at a time. No. I had to multitask in order to be well and properly distracted these days. But hey, at least I had learned a few things in the process. I was not quite sure if teaching myself new recipes and carpentry techniques and pushing my body to the point of exhaustion was exactly what my therapist had meant when she urged me to relax and enjoy myself, but oh well. It had been a mildly entertaining time off by my own weird standards, at least.

Especially since the past week or so had been peppered with heart-pounding conversations with Luke via the dating app on which he had found me. I had even taken breaks from my intense “leisure” activities to answer him. As in, dropping what I was doing like a hot potato and rushing over to my phone to read his messages like I was some hormonal teenybopper with a schoolboy crush. It was

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