I smiled at the memory of the good part of that night. Dancing together. Both of us slightly tipsy. Me pulling her into the coat closet. The mistletoe. Her mouth on mine. My hand inching up her thigh. My name on her lips.
“Shut up, O’Connor.” She was silent for a moment, and I wondered if she was recalling the same memory I was. “Just for the wedding week?”
“One week with a clean slate. If you decide after the week that you still hate me, then you can turn back into the ice queen.” I unlocked my apartment door and tossed my keys onto my counter, kicking off my shoes.
“What about you? Are you going to be on your best behavior, then?”
“I promise I’ll be nice. And I won’t dance with Nora,” I tagged on. Nora could find someone else to make Ian jealous at the wedding.
“Fine, but you can dance with whoever you want. We aren’t dating.”
“So, it’s a deal?”
“I said ‘fine’ didn’t I?” she snarked back.
“Alright. Retract those claws, woman.”
“It’s not the wedding week yet. I can do whatever I want right now.”
I smirked. Her tone didn’t have as much bite to it.
“You do whatever you want, princess. I’ll talk to you in a few days. Don’t forget to play nice when I see you.”
I hung up the phone and fell onto my bed without undressing.
I could get her to soften some of those jagged edges for me by the end of the wedding week. If I was good at anything, it was dealing with difficult people. I’d learned how to use my boyish charm to my advantage, and I loved a challenge.
And Eve would definitely be a challenge.
You're On Broadway, Baby
Eve
Itookthestepsto my apartment two at a time. The keys shook in my hand as I fumbled it into the lock and burst into the door with barely contained excitement.
“Brian?” I called out as I locked the door behind me and threw the keys on the table by the door.
Silence greeted me.
“Brian!” I yelled louder, but still got no response.
Oh, come on! He couldn’t sleepat a time like this. I had to tell someone. I needed someone to jump up and down with me.
I ran to his bedroom, threw the door open, and jumped onto his bed.
“Jesus, fuck,” he grumbled.
“Wake up. Wake up. Wake up,” I squealed, bouncing with each word.
He glanced at the clock on his nightstand and glared at me, running his hands through his already disheveled hair.
“Ugh. Go away. I’ve had 3 hours of sleep.” He swatted at me, rolling over to pull his pillow over his face.
“But I need you to jump up and down with me before you go back to sleep.” I tugged the pillow away, tossing it to the bottom of the bed.
“It’s too early for that bullshit, Eve.”
“Noon is not too early for jumping for joy,” I said, undeterred by his lack of enthusiasm.
