I laughed and raised my glass in salute. "I knew what youmeant."
"It went really well,"shesaid.
It sounded like a concession, but I wasn't sure which one of us she'd doubted more. Given the spectacular way we'd concluded our performance of Happy Couple, I was deserving of thatdoubt.
"Except for that," I said, nodding at herswollenlip.
"And these," she said, pointing to the heels drying on the benchbesideher.
I shot a grimace at them. "Two questions," I said, holding up two fingers. "First, when did you get non-redshoes?"
She used a broken chip to scrape guacamole from the bowl. "Believe it or not, I've had those shoes since high school. That's probably an indication of how infrequently I wear them. But," she continued, "my mother feels very strongly that beige heels—she calls themnude—are absolutely essential to, and I quote, lengthentheleg."
Leaning back in my chair for a better angle, I peered at Alex's legs. Her bare feet were crossed at the ankles and propped up on the booth beside me, and all I could see was smooth, glorious skin until it disappeared beneath the skirt of her blue dress. "And why do you need todothat?"
"Because I'm short," she said. "Short girls always need to lengthentheleg."
"You don't need to change a thing," I said. I wrapped my hand around her ankle because I wanted to touch her again. Just one more time. "Stick with the red shoes. They're spunky, and I like a little spunkonyou."
She opened her mouth to respond and then promptly closed it, instead staring at the decimated trays before us. Then reached for another chip without meetingmyeyes.
Good.She'd heard it exactly as I'dintended.
"I'll take it under consideration," she said. It looked like she was blushing, but sports bars weren't known for their lighting, and The Fours was no exception. "And your secondquestion?"
I glanced down at her toes and the chipped ruby nail polish there, and couldn't help admitting that I liked this girl. Every salty ounce of her. And I didn't like her because we needed to help each other survive a rocky patch of life. I liked her because I couldn't know her andnotlike her. She was fierce as fuck and had more balls than any man I knew, but there was a quietly adorable side to her, too. Adorable like bright, bright eyes and tattoos I didn't understand and (ass) cheeks that requiredsqueezing.
I blinked up at her, suddenly disoriented. I didn't have a place for these reactions, and I wasn't sure I wanted to make room. Wasn't sure Iknewhow.
"I'm—I'm sorry," I said, catching myself before losing control of my words and pelting her with rapid-fire stutters. "I didn't catch that. What did you sayagain?"
If Alex had noticed me stumbling, she hid it well as she rifled through her wallet-purse-thingy. Upon discovering a rubber band, she twisted her hair into a knot atop her head. "You said you had two questions for me," she replied, the band snared between her teeth. "What was thesecondone?"
"What's the story with the red?" Iasked.
Alex lifted a shoulder and waved away the question. "I like red," she replied. "Nostory."
I squeezed her ankle. It wasn't right to continue touching her when I wasn't capable of processing the recognition that I liked her without an emotional spasm, but here I was. "I don't think I buy that,"Isaid.
She shrugged as if my rejection of her non-explanation didn't matter, and she went back to picking through the plates of nachos between us. "I wasn'tsellingit."
I shifted toward the bar to catch the highlights from tonight's games. It was a welcomed distraction from collating the competing thoughts in my head. In recent years, I'd always been able to lose myself in something long enough to forget that I adored my brother's wife. Whether it was work or sporting events or a weekend spent filling in behind the bar in Rhode Island, I knew how togetlost.
But I didn't know how to be lost in a woman who wasn't Lauren. I'd never found myself in quicksand but I had to imagine the heart-thumping confusion that came from working like hell to get out but only sinking farther down was somethinglikethis.
"I'm astounded, actually," Alex mused. "I'd expected Mrs. Chapelton to properly harass you. You know, demand your résumé andfamilytree."
I dragged my attention away from the screens and back to Alex. "Have you figured itoutyet?"
She offered a quick glance in my direction as she hunted for the chip of her dreams. "Figuredoutwhat?"
"You wanted to know how to introduce me. Now that you've had some time to consider it, I'm curious whether you've determined what we are." She paused, her hand frozen over the plate. "You know, we could have some fun with it," I continued. "We could say we're the product of a modern-day arranged pairing because we're too fucked up to meet otherhumans."
"No exaggeration there," she said with a hearty laugh. "Better yet, we're too hip and sophisticated for titles. Fuck anyone who asks. They don't deserve to know ourlives."
"That's right," I said. It was good to laugh, and even better to remember this was fully contrived. "Fuck thosefuckers."
"All of them," she said. "Or, we're in wild, hot love. Romeo and Juliet but less death. Much lessdeath."
