“I like this song,” I said just as Josh touched his cheek to my temple.
“Good, because it’s our song.”
I smiled. “It is?”
“It is now.”
I looked up at him, not wanting to let go of this Josh, who looked at me like he was searching for forgiveness and I was the only woman who could give it to him. “If you were like this all the time, I could like you.”
“Same.”
I pressed my lips tighter, trying to suppress a smile.
He opened his mouth but hesitated.
“What?” I asked. When he shook his head, I prompted him again. “Oh, c’mon. Be brave.”
He sighed, and then he turned his head an infinitesimal amount, just enough that the side of his lips brushed my skin as he spoke. My eyes fell closed at the simple touch.
“I was just thinking … we could just make it easy on each other and play nice.”
I leaned back to scan his face, noting the tiny bit of vulnerability behind his eyes. “You first,” I said, dubious.
He stopped dancing and looked down at me, pondering his next words. “Dinner tomorrow?”
“What, like strippers and hot wings?”
He looked up to the ceiling before sighing loudly. “I prefer mild wings, but I guess I can make an exception for you.”
The corner of his mouth twisted up into a grin, and as much as I wanted to scowl, I couldn’t help but grin back.
“Okay.”
“Yeah?” he asked, clearly expecting a different answer. I was stubborn but no fool. Josh may have been a notorious whore, but his surprise in that moment was all I needed. He was different now, too.
I smiled. “I get off at eight.” I left him standing on the dance floor alone, signaling to Deb that I was leaving.
“Avery,” Dr. Rosenberg said, stepping in front of me with a smile. He looked relieved to see me.
“Hello, Doctor.”
“You can call me Reid here,” he said, looking around. When he looked back at me, there was something in his eyes, but now that I’d experienced the way Josh looked at me, Dr. Rosenberg’s attention wasn’t as charming as before. “I was hoping you’d be here.”
I peeked back at Josh, who was fixed on my exchange with Dr. Rosenberg, his lips pressed into a hard line. I nodded and smiled politely. “It was nice to see you, Doctor,” I said. I walked away, still feeling Josh’s touch on my skin.
Deb hooked my arm with hers. “Josh is smiling. Super cheesy. He looks like an eight-year-old boy on Christmas morning.”
I grinned, unable to help myself.
“Is Quinn watching me leave?” she asked.
I glanced over my shoulder to the bar, seeing the disappointment in Quinn’s eyes. “Yep. He’s devastated. You should have left your shit shoe behind like a deranged Cinderella.”
“He gave me his number. Slap me in the tit if I try to drunk text him later. Where are we going now?”
“Home,” I said. “I have a ten-hour shift tomorrow and a date after. I need to get in a full eight hours of sleep.”
“Home?” Deb asked. “But I’m not even buzzed.” She pressed her key fob, unlocking our doors.
I didn’t pull the handle. “How much have you drank?”
She shrugged. “Just the shot Josh sent over. Is he your date, or does the doc want to plant his seed in your bush?”
I cringed. “I agreed to a date with Josh, just to … I dunno … get him off my back.” I downplayed our plans, trying not to grin like an idiot.
“Get him off your back? I’d let him put his hands on me like a gorilla scaling the Empire State Building.” She began thrusting her hips and I looked away, embarrassed. “You really like him,” she said, half teasing, half surprised. “That’s great, I think, but I thought you couldn’t stand him.”
Slipping inside the car, I waited for her to get inside before resuming our conversation.
“I don’t know. Something about him fishing me out of my wadded up car and holding me until the ambulance arrived made me rethink his character.”
“I mean … I guess,” she said, unimpressed. “His tight ass probably doesn’t hurt either.”
“Why are we still here? I need to get home and figure out what the hell I’m wearing.”
“Why? You’re going to bail. You always bail.” She started the car and tapped the buttons on the radio.
“Not this time.”
She wasn’t convinced. “Twenty bucks says you’ll call him by seven thirty and tell him you’re sick. You hate dates, and you’re going to come to your senses about McPanties by quittin’ time tomorrow and develop a sudden case of the Hershey squirts.”
I lifted my chin. “Fine. Twenty bucks. I’m going on this date, even if my anxiety goes nuts.”
She clicked her tongue, backing out of her parking spot. “You should just give me the money now.”
I was too amped to sleep after scoring a date with Avery, so I began to prepare.
Behind my apartment, in a brick shack that leaned slightly to the left, I stared at my battered and bruised car, Mabeline.
Compared to Avery’s matchbox car, mine had stood up against the small impact. Muscle cars were built that way, to be tough. Cars today crumbled like a wadded up tissue. I saw it every single day, and most people weren’t nearly as lucky as Avery. That girl was her own rabbit’s foot or … I reached up and gripped the penny beneath my shirt that I had found on my floorboard right before our impact.