I tell myself I won’t do it.
I tell myself I’ll let her live her life and stick to the plan.
But the next morning, I still find myself texting Madden and asking if he wants to get drinks that night.
TWENTY
Two drinks, I tell myself.Two drinks, and then you can head out.
The fact that I feel an all-consuming dread as I park behind the bar my brother owns to get drinks with my best friend, her boyfriend, and my date can absolutely not be a good sign, but I push myself to smile as I step out of my car. Kevin is standing beside his car and gives me a small wave as he makes his way toward me, and I fight back a sigh.
It’s not that he’s not nice: he is. Incredibly. Sweet and kind and everything I should want. Wren did well, setting us up, and I wasn’t lying when I told Jesse we had a lot in common.
The problem is, he doesn’t make my heart flip when he looks at me, and I don’t feel butterflies when he gives me a small, polite hug or tells me I look beautiful. When I slip on ice in the parking lot, he asks me if I’m okay.
“Oh, yeah, I’m good. I really shouldn’t be wearing these shoes, not with the storm that just came through,” I say as we walk around to the front, gesturing to my Uggs.
He tips his head at them. “They look warm,” he says.
I give him a nod. “Yeah, but they have no grip. I’m toast on ice.”
He shrugs as if that doesn't matter. “Sometimes you just want to be cozy.”
I nod and then politely smile as he opens the door, but all I can think about is the grumpy face Jesse would have made if he saw me slip yet again in these.
“You know what I was watching last night?” I ask twenty minutes later, turning to Wren. We’re sitting at a four-top table, Kevin next to me, Adam beside Wren with his arm over her shoulder. “Our Lips Are Sealed.” Since settling in, the night has been fine, and a fraction of my desire to head home instead of spending the night out has died down, and I’m enjoying myself for the most part.
“The Mary-Kate and Ashley movie?” she asks with a laugh, and I nod. “Oh my god, I haven’t seen those in years. We loved them.”
“I know. I found out Emma’s never seen any of them.”
“My sister liked those,” Kevin says, and when I look to him, his nose is scrunched up. “They were so bad.” I tilt my head a bit and force a smile, shrugging.
“That was kind of the best part. It added to it. Plus, they were a sign of the times, you know?”
“I suppose. There are just so many great movies out there—I can’t imagine intentionally watching them as an adult.”
I let out a laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “Would this be the wrong time to tell you that I rewatch them regularly? They’re kind of a comfort watch for me,” I admit.
He shakes his head and lets out a little huff of a laugh. “No, it just means we’ll just have to watch some of the classics, broaden your horizons a bit.”
I blink and then nod, unsure of what to say. I’m sure he means well, but it grates against my nerves in a way that can’t be a great sign. Wren gives me a strange look, and I put on a friendly smile, shrugging it off, but all I can think about is Jessestaying up all night, even though he was dead tired from working all day, to watch it with me.
Thankfully, Wren takes over the conversation, talking about the kids in her class, and I’m grateful for the distraction as I look around. At the bar, I catch Colt’s eye, and he gives me a skeptical look, but I just give him a polite smile and a shrug.
“I’m gonna go grab another drink,” I say, a bit too loud. “Anyone else?” Everyone shakes their heads no, and I’m relieved when Kevin doesn’t follow as I walk over to the bar where my brother is standing.
“What’s going on over there? You look like you need me to rush over with an emergency to save you,” Colt says with a laugh when I walk over to him, and I let out a laugh, shaking my head, the tension leaving my shoulders.
“No, no. It’s all good. It’s kind of a blind date, someone Wren works with. Can I get a Coke, please?” I ask, deciding that one cider would be enough.
“What is a kind of blind date?” Colt asks, reaching for a glass and filling it with ice.
“We got coffee together earlier this week, and he seemed normal.”
“But now?”
“Now…” I shrug. “I don’t know. We don’t have much in common.” He tops the drink with dark soda, then adds a straw and slides it to me.
