“Happy New Year, Reid Fellows. This has been the best year ever. I don’t know that next year can top it.”
In a matter of days—no, minutes—I’ve gone from jilted, cynical, former fat girl to dreamy, hopeful, and smitten.
“Wait until next year,” he warns me, and a shiver of anticipation runs up and down my spine, zipping to my feet and back.
We abandon all the serious conversation, order an antipasto plate and two pasta dishes to share, and another bottle of wine.
Oh, we took an Uber, planning on having our fill of libations and fun.
“Tell me something crazy you did before Gabby,” Reid says over an after-dinner drink, some Kahlua, coffee, and cream creation that’s going down way too easily.
“Ha, I don’t know if I can even remember that version of me.”
“Come on, you can.”
I set my napkin on the table and lean forward, closing my eyes, dredging up my memory. “Okay, there was this one time. I was eighteen, finishing up my first year of college, and my roommate’s uncle was getting married. It was a third wedding for him, I think. They got married on a Thursday ...” I drag out the last word.
“A Thursday? What does that have to do with it?” Reid laughs.
It’s hoarse and throaty, making me feel it everywhere.Everywhere. It’s toe-curling, and I’m not sure I ever knew what toe-curling was.
“Well, it doesn’t, but it does,” I say.
“Okay ...” He tilts his head, urging me on.
“We went to the wedding and there was a guy there. I think he was twenty-four or twenty-five. Too old for me. Way too old. After the wedding, he asked me to go to some bar with him, and I went.”
“That’s not so crazy.”
When Reid smirks at me, I fall for him more than I already have. I want to go back in time, erase UAB, finish my masters of library science degree, and be worthy of him. Instead, I finish the story.
“Yeah, hold your horses. I went with an ID for an Asian girl. Me with my big, round eyes and brown hair.”
“And? Did you have fun?”
“Um, no. I ended up throwing up all over the bar, puking right there. I haven’t had shots of Jägermeister since then. I also never saw the guy again. Jack, I think that was his name. He hightailed it out of there so fast, I had to take a cab home, my head hanging out of the window the whole time, praying I didn’t barf.”
Reid is smiling and laughing, his eyes kind of crinkling, a small wrinkle in his forehead, and I love it.
“This barfing, it’s kind of a thing with you. I’m learning.”
“Ugh, I should have thought about that before telling this story to you.”
“No way! I wonder, were you sick when you were pregnant?”
“Not a single second of the nine months. I felt great.”
“I knew it. You were meant to be Gabby’s mom.”
All words are stripped from my mind. My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth.
Reid’s words have stolen all the air in the room, including my breath. Thank God for the server who stops by at that moment with the check and says it’s almost midnight.
The clock strikes midnight, noisemakers blare, and I kiss the hell out of Reid Fellows, showing him rather than telling him how he makes me feel.
Me. Andi.
Not UAB.
