Being with Stu tonight hadn’t made her miss Dustin any more or any less than she always did and, in a way, always had. And the datehad made her miss Stu a lot more and the way warmth physically radiated out from his body.
“The Hoppily Ever After still gets my vote,” Stu said.
It felt different being with Stu in downtown Indy than it had up on Elmer Lake. Indy wasn’t New York, but it was still a city, and though it didn’t quite bustle, it had a hum to it and that was something. It was a little too big for Stu and a little too small for Rae, and she caught herself wondering if it might be just the right size for the two of them together. Not that they were together by any means, but they weren’t apart any more at least.
They were both in denim. Rae was wearing a jean jacket, and Stu was in a button-down shirt, one of those soft fabrics that didn’t require ironing. Rae had on hardly any makeup, just a dusting of powder to lessen the sheen on her nose and a heavy coat of ChapStick.
“Next date, I’ll up my game and take you to Vivida,” he said. “It’s Indy’s only restaurant that might impress a New Yorker.”
Rae smiled in the wake of the phraseNext date.She caught herself pondering, just in the abstract, if perhaps this was the setting and the timing that would make the stars finally align for them. “You’ve been impressing me since we were eight years old when I saw your water gun aim,” Rae said. “And I’m not a New Yorker, I justlivedin New York.”
“Just like you’re not an investment banker,” Stu said, dark eyes dancing. “You justworkin investment banking.”
Earlier, Rae had struggled to describe her job to Stu. He’d never asked much about it two summers back, and Rae hadn’t volunteered much. But tonight it seemed important that he understand that side of her, so one empty stein later (she’d made herself drink every time she’d caught herself using an acronym, like she knew the Scramblettes would do if they were here), Stu had summed it up as “helping companies gobble up their competitors.” Rae had started defending herself by saying she hadn’t let her capitalistic career twist her morals, but Stu had cut her off. “Raelynn, we drank the same well water growing up. I know you’ve got good values.”
As for his updates, Stu had recently taken over his dad’s auto dealership business. He didn’t care for the managerial part of it, but he liked working with the customers. “Think about it,” he’d told her, as they’d sat across from each other on the beer garden’s outdoor picnic bench. “People name their kids, their dogs, and their cars.”
Rae had thought about adding “and plants,” but she’d stayed quiet.
“It’s pretty cool to help people find cars that become part of their families like that,” he’d gone on, and told the story of a woman in her early seventies who, after her husband and lifelong chauffeur died, had come in looking for a “no-frills sedan” and had driven home in a red Mercedes convertible, hooting like a teenager.
Rae had enjoyed the metaphor so much she’d agreed to stay for another round, not that she’d been thinking about heading out.
Now, standing with Stu on the quiet street outside the Wilcox Box (her tipsy thoughts couldn’t resist the endearing name), she impulsively buried her head in his shoulder. It smelled deliciously familiar.
“You still like me,” Stu said, arms around her.
“I don’tnotstill like you.”
“Double negatives hurt my head.”
“Better than hurting your heart,” Rae mumbled.
“What’d you say?”
“Nothing.” Rae stopped herself before she went down a melodramatic path of the past.
Alcohol usually packed the numbness tighter, but tonight it was having a loosening effect, as if she had been wanting to unclench for a while now.
“Don’t you hate how our moms are gonna gloat over this?” she asked.
“You know,” Stu said, stroking her back in soothing circles. “In this case, I really don’t mind at all.”
Rae’s body was suddenly raw but also burning for someone to wrap her up and hold her through the night, skin to skin.
“I have a full-sized refrigerator,” she said. “Want to come up and see?”
“Not tonight,” Stu said.
Rae stepped back and folded her arms in front of her, processing the rejection.
“I want to,” he added quickly. “Believe me, I’m sure it’s an incredible refrigerator.” He paused for a grin. “It’s just—I don’t know much about stock markets, but the one tip my dad gave me was to always focus on the long term, not the short term. And it’s always been about the long game with you, Raelynn.”
Rae humphed, but the semisober part of her knew it was the right decision. “Fine,” she said. “But at least kiss me good-night?”
He did, and it reminded her of past memories, plus ones she hadn’t made yet.
“Your breath smells like poetry,” she said.
