Strike Read Online Free Page B

texts we’d shared and the funny-weird feeling in my gut confirmed it.
    I’d ignored calls from two girls since I’d met April on Wednesday. Two girls that left messages with very graphic and detailed accounts of what they wanted to do to me. All I had to do was return the calls. When I’d listened to their messages, I’d pictured April doing those things. Then I deleted the messages and their names from my phone. I wonder whether I’ll regret that decision.
    I took out my frustration at the gym after work, giving my all with the strength and conditioning program that Mac had recently tailored for us. Thank fuck I had at least that to focus on.
    I could have texted April all afternoon, but I had to stop at some point. Now I only had twenty-seven hours until I’d see her again. Maybe I should take a couple of Xanax and sleep through it, because there’s no other way I can avoid thinking about her until then.
    ****
    * APRIL *
    Saturday night
    Tonight I’m catching a taxi to dinner so I can enjoy a few drinks and Spencer’s company. It’s not because I think Spencer and I might go home together. I’ve promised myself that my erotic thoughts will remain just that. Thoughts. Thoughts that won’t cross the line into reality. Yeah, that’s what I’m telling myself. And if I say it, over and over, it will come true.
    Not just butterflies, but the entire insect kingdom decides my stomach is the place to be tonight. They’d arrived early—the moment I’d started tearing my wardrobe apart for something to wear. It wasn’t an issue of having nothing. I have plenty of clothes, but I don’t want to look too eager, too slutty or too … I don’t know. Spencer had no problem with the ripped jeans and bike boots, and that’s my wardrobe and me in a nutshell.
    So jeans it is. Skinny black jeans, with a black lace singlet. At least I’ll feel comfortable. On the outside anyway . At the last second I make a rash decision to ditch the boots for a pair of strappy black heels, and my favourite leather jacket gets to come along for the ride. How wild tonight’s going to be, only time will tell.
    ****
    * SPENCER *
    I paced around my apartment in just a pair of jeans for ages before I could decide on a shirt. I know sometimes I take a while to get ready, but after she’d called me pretty boy, I’d felt overdressed. I finally threw on a white T-shirt. Plain as piss, but I was running out of time, and there was no way I was gonna be late. Whilst to me there’s nothing casual about tonight, at least my clothes might give that impression. I don’t wanna get ahead of myself.
    The same tall, blond-haired waitress greets me with a smarmy smile, and looks me up and down. “Joining us again, huh?” she says. I scan around the place, but no sign yet of April.
    “Yeah. Table for two.”
    She picks up a couple of menus. “This way.”
    She leads me to the back of the café to a booth. Much cosier than last time. This could definitely work to my advantage. Our conversation can be that much more private. I’d been obsessing over what we’d talk about, but as much as I could talk dirty until sunrise with April, I’ve decided I have to tone down the dirty-talk. I know I rely on it when I need to do that extra convincing, but really I should save it for maximum effect.
    I sit in the side of the booth facing the front door, so I can watch her walk in. I’m right on time; April is late. For ten minutes I scan over the menu, smiling to myself when I read it. MoFo chilli wings . They were fucking spicy, alright. I wonder if April will order them again. With April around, hot is definitely on the menu.
    The front door opens and in she walks, glides , even. She’s not dressed as casual as last time, this time all in black. Her clothes hug her body tight, her jeans like a second skin. I follow the path of those sky-high legs right down to her heels. I loved her in boots, but heels? Damn. I might just cry. Her caramel hair flows in waves