3
Flynn
Sunday, I go to the Kremlin.
Like a dumbass, I never asked Nadia for her number, and I woke up today still feeling like a douche for how things went down last night.
The party was the wrong scene–I’d known that at the time–but the bedroom thing? I don’t know how I f****d that one up so badly. I’m good at reading people–especially women. Chalk it up to growing up with two sisters and a mentally unstable mother. I trust the vibes they give off, and I could’ve sworn Nadia wanted to go in the bedroom. I can tell the difference between when a girl does something because she thinks it’s what you want and when she’s actually into it herself.
At least, I thought I could tell. So either I f****d up, or she changed her mind, which is cool. I just need to talk to her. Make sure she’s oka
